Branded
by Koury Coving
Summary: Tony has a secret; her name is Tyler Stark. Tyler has a secret; his name is Loki. Tyler has been chosen by Loki for something, something big. Will Tony allow his daughter to fall into one of Loki's maniacal schemes? Even if he won't, the events have been set in motion; there is nothing he can do about it now. Tyler will aid Loki and Loki will destroy. Everything. LokixOC
1. More than a Shadow

Chapter 1: More Than a Shadow

Tyler slumped down onto the black leather couch with her legs dangling over the arm. All the lights were off, but she could still see the bulky shapes of the many furnishings that lined the top room of her father's private mansion. This was the room he always crashed in with a beer after one of his many missions; if she wasn't there waiting for him. He, thankfully, avoided getting drunk in her presence. For the most part.

Outside, the stars shone brightly beyond the ocean, but dimmed as they reached over New York City. Other than the stars, though, there was nothing in the sky. Nothing that alerted her to her father's presence. She had stayed up all night waiting for him to come back from some unknown task he had to complete. Though he had his suit with him, she couldn't help but be nervous; the last time he had to fight a big battle he almost died when he redirected a nuclear missile into a portal that was created from some infinite energy source that he said was classified. Everything he ever did that was _actually _interesting was classified; go figure.

This night she stayed up because of his "classified" business he always told her about. Ever since she could remember he hid her from the rest of the world to protect her, but she was tired of being "protected." She wanted something more; she wanted to have friends that knew her real name instead of some alias her father had given her to use. She thought that maybe, just maybe, if he let her learn how to fight with one of his suits then she could be more than just a shadow, doomed to always be less than her billionaire, super hero, genius father.

A shadow… she flinched at the word. No matter how close she was to her father she would always feel that way. She wasn't a genius, she wasn't loved by millions of people, and she couldn't even hold a job for more than two weeks; most likely because she always stayed awake when he left the house. It was insanely childish, but she often felt that she couldn't sleep when he went out; even if it was just for some laid-back party he was supposed to attend for good publicity. He always managed to turn those into some life-risking stunt anyways. Her head snapped up as the familiar sound of the iron suit landing on the platform that extended from the balcony came to her ears. She jumped off the couch and jogged forward to meet her father, stopping in the frame of the glass door that led outside. As Tony stepped out of his suit he gave her an annoyed look.

"I thought I told you to get some sleep," he said as the pieces of his suit were stripped away by machinery lined across the platform, "you haven't had a full night's rest for days."

"You did mention that, but I tend not to listen when you leave the house at midnight for some ridiculous reason that you can't tell me about." She fell into step with her father as he passed her and headed toward his room.

"Tell me, when was the last time I failed to return after I leave?"

Tyler stepped in front of him with her arms folded to stop him in his tracks.

"As I recall, there have been three times in which you have almost died after neglecting to tell me where you are going, and even more in which I knew where you were. I don't care how brilliant your suit is, I don't like to be left in the dark about these things. What if you disappear for a week and then some secret agent comes to tell me that you've died in some extra terrestrial attack or something?"

Tony placed his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes with sincerity. For a fleeting moment Tyler thought he was going to be serious. He wasn't.

"You watch too much T.V. An alien attack really isn't that common." He moved her aside and continued to walk. Tyler growled, turned, and caught up to Tony, easily matching the pace of his brisk walk.

"Dad, I need to talk to you about something," she said to him.

"Oh boy, this should be fun. Can I have a drink first?"

"Not if you want to continue to be able to walk for the rest of your life."

Tony stopped in front of his door and looked down at her quizzically. "Is that a threat? You are aware that I'm the one who controls Jarvis, which inevitably allows me to control every single piece of dangerous technology in this house, right?" He smiled sardonically and stepped into his room, Tyler still on his heels.

"Do you really think your empty threats are going to make me back down?"

"Funny, I was thinking the same thing when you threatened to disable me from walking." He paused and looked around as if he forgot what he was going to do now that he was in his room.

"Tony, drop it. I _need _to talk to you."

"You were the one who started it, weren't you?" Tony asked rhetorically as he moved past the large, king-sized bed to a cabinet that was placed above a small counter. He opened the cabinet, pulling out a bottle of scotch and a glass to pour it in. Tyler gave an exasperated sigh and grabbed the bottle out of his hands.

"Hey!" he protested as he lunged forward to take it back. Tyler spun out of his reach and ran out to the balcony attached to his room. Tony followed suit, not willing to give up his scotch; the last time Tyler had taken it the bottle ended up smashed three stories below on the concrete surrounding the pool. And it wasn't just any scotch; it was expensive, strong, _delicious _Chivas Regal. As expected, his daughter was standing with the bottle in her hand and her arm held over the edge of the balcony. Tony held his hands in front of him, palms facing downward in an attempt to stop Tyler from dropping the precious liquid.

"Whoa, now, calm down. There is no need to drop that; it's my last bottle," he said cautiously.

"Well, I might hold onto it," Tyler replied, swinging the bottle back and forth, only barely keeping her grip on it, "Are you listening?"

"Yes, yes, just don't drop the bottle," he pleaded.

"Only if you're listening, Tony."

Tony rolled his eyes and dropped his hands. "I'll be listening when you come inside; it's the middle of fall and freezing out here."

Tyler raised an eyebrow, not completely convinced, but walked forward and returned to the bedroom, pulling the scotch away from Tony as he tried to take it from her again. She put the glass Tony had taken out and the scotch back into the cabinet before sitting on the bed and motioning for Tony to sit next to her.

"I'm going to be out of college soon," Tyler started when Tony was seated next to her, "and I can't help but wonder what I'm supposed to do when I graduate."

Tony tossed his head back so that he was looking at the ceiling. "Not this again, Tyler," he dropped his head so he could look at her, "I thought we already talked about this."

"Yes, and we came up with a conclusion that you neglected to follow through with."

"What? I thought we agreed that you don't need to work because of all the money I have."

"No, that's what _you _decided, Tony," she looked him in the eye with steadfast determination. "I am not going to live the rest of my life in hiding. From the day I met you, you kept me from the rest of the world; I don't know why, I can only assume that it was for a good reason. I'm old enough now to take care of myself, but I can't do that unless I'm given the chance to step out from behind your shadow. Every day you either bring to the world a new invention to make life easier or you protect people from evil super villains. I want to be a part of that; there is nothing else I'd rather do more. I'm not smart enough to invent some crazy piece of Stark Tech, but I do believe that I am perfectly capable of learning how to-"

"Stop right there," Tony interrupted, "I am not allowing you to start risking your life every day just because you have nothing better to do."

"Why not? You do it all the time."

"It's who I am, Tyler. I am Ironman; and I am the crazy, idiotic Tony Stark that every criminal in their right mind wants to get rid of. I won't allow you to plaster a target on your back just because it's what I do."

"But I am a Stark, too, Tony. I can't make Stark Tech, so why don't you allow me to use it? And why doesn't anyone in the world other than Pepper know of my existence? Am I that much of a humiliation to you?"

"No, that's not-" he broke off as he ran a hand through his hair with a heavy sigh, "Tyler, you are anything but a humiliation to me. You're smart, even if you're not a genius like me, and you're beautiful, kind, fun, I could go on with all of the things I am proud of in you. I don't broadcast you to the world because you'd be followed in everything that you do, even just going out to the movies on a Saturday night. I don't want your life to be taken away because you can't do anything without the press finding out about it." He sighed and looked at her with sincerity that he only showed a few times throughout his life. "What do you want me to do?"

Tyler blinked in surprise, not expecting him to give in so easily. "I… I was sort of thinking you should teach me how to use the suit."

Tony almost choked on his laughter as he tried to stop it from exiting his throat. "Seriously? I just talked to you about this!" he practically squeaked.

"Yes, seriously. Don't tell me you're scared to do it," she paused and a quirky smile formed on her lips. "Astro Boy," she insulted playfully. Tony tilted his head a bit and scowled.

"For your information, Miss Swan, there is not a single thing existing on this earth that can scare me. Except maybe Pepper when she's mad."

Tyler's smile grew, part due to her playfulness and part because of offense taken, as she shoved her father down onto the pillows of his bed. "I told you not to call me that!"

Tony chuckled and threw a pillow at her. "Then don't call me Astro Boy."

Tyler caught the pillow and narrowed her eyes at him, preparing to speak.

"Don't say it," Tony said quickly with a finger pointed at her.

"Astro Boy," she said rebelliously.

"Shouldn't have done that," Tony said as he tackled Tyler onto the bed and started mercilessly tickling her. She squealed and tried to push him off of her but found it hard to do when she was laughing uncontrollably.

"Cut it out!" she ordered between laughs and deep breaths.

"You brought this on yourself," Tony chided, not pausing for even a moment. Finally, when Tyler's sides were sore, she gathered up enough strength to push her father over to the other side of the bed. They both lay there, Tyler heaving heavily and Tony giving her his famous, billionaire smile.

"You're a jerk," she wheezed, her breathing still not back to normal.

"I try," Tony replied with a small wink of his left eye. Tyler stuck her tongue out and shifted so that she could more easily look at her father.

"So what do you say?" she asked.

"About what?"

Tyler glared at him and he sighed as he pushed himself into a sitting position. "I'll tell you what. How about you get ready tomorrow at 10:30 in the morning, and I'll take you to a place that you can learn to protect yourself, okay? If you can do that then _maybe _I'll let you use the suit. Maybe. Deal?"

"Yes!" Tyler quipped happily as she threw herself on top of him in a bear hug. "Thank you so much!"

Tony chuckled as he hugged her back. "You're welcome." He separated from her and swung his legs off of the bed. "And now, you will go get some sleep so that I can have my scotch."

"No way!" Tyler said with an angry pout. "Jarvis, lock the cabinet containing Tony's scotch."

"_Of course, Tyler," _the AI replied.

"What? No," Tony ordered, "Jarvis, _don't _lock the cabinet containing my scotch."

"_As you-"_

"No, Jarvis, this is a level six," Tyler interrupted. "Lock the cabinet."

Tony glared at her as Jarvis obliged and locked the cabinet. "How _dare _you call a level six? That's only for emergencies!"

Tyler shrugged. "I count this as an emergency. If you start drinking that scotch then you'll get a hangover and be unable to take me to wherever it is that you plan to take me tomorrow. I'm not going to let that happen."

Tony narrowed his eyes. "Alright, fine, but if you're not in bed by the count of three then the Boogie Monster will tickle you to death."

"Really? Tony, I'm not a little-"

"One…"

Tyler rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips. "I'm not scared of-"

"Two…"

Tyler stiffened as Tony inched his way forward, his hands held up and his fingers wriggling like he was tickling the air.

"Tony, don't you dare take another-"

"Three!" Tony shouted, lunging for his daughter. Tyler dodged out of his grip with a squeel and ran from the room. He had already tickled her to death once tonight, she wasn't about to let that happen again. She could hear Tony's heavy footsteps as he chased after her and she sped up. Tony was on her heels the whole time and when she reached her room she was only barely able to slip in and close the automated door before Tony could get her.

"Jarvis, keep that door locked!" Tyler ordered. Before Jarvis could reply, Tony barked another command.

"Level six, Jarvis, open the door!" The door slid open and Tony barged through. He wrapped his arms around Tyler's waist and hoisted her over his shoulder while roaring like a monster.

"No fair," Tyler protested and struggled to get out of his grip, but to no avail. "Level six is only emergency use!" Tony threw her down on her bed with a final roar and smiled.

"You used it when it wasn't necessary; I was only paying back the favor."

Tyler stuck her tongue out at him for a second time and he pushed her head into the pillows.

"Good night, Miss Swan," he teased before getting up and making his way to his own room.

"And same to you, Astro Boy!" she called after him. Tony smiled at the nickname and pressed the button that closed Tyler's door. Once it was completely closed Tony let the smile fade from his face as he walked back to his room. He understood where Tyler was coming from but was reluctant to let her use one of his suits. For one, it wasn't fitted to her small, feminine figure which could be potentially dangerous if she was caught in a blast of some sort. And he also wasn't sure if she was ready for such a big responsibility. Truthfully, though he would never admit it to anyone, the first time he used his suit he probably wasn't ready for it which led him to almost killing himself. He would need time to create a suit that would fit her, and she would probably pressure him everyday about it if he told her he was planning to make one for her. But, he couldn't leave her hanging, especially when he gave her his word to teach her tomorrow. So the only thing he could do (and he cringed at the thought) was call Fury and get him to recruit her or at least show her what went on in his HQ. Even if it was supposed to be extremely classified.

When Tony again entered his room he walked over to a large desk that leaned against the wall directly across from his bed and to the left of the balcony and tapped on an invisible screen that jumped to life.

"Jarvis," he said, "get Fury up on the screen."

"_Right away, Sir," _Jarvis answered before pulling up a program and searching the contacts for Fury. Jarvis accessed the link and the sound of a phone ringing came from the speakers hooked up to the computer. The director ignored the first call, it was two o'clock in the morning after all, but Tony wasn't going to let Tyler down. (Though he had to admit promising that he would train her the very next day when it was so late wasn't the brightest idea he'd ever had.)

"_He is not picking up, Sir," _Jarvis informed.

"Do whatever you have to do to get him on the screen," Tony ordered, "even if you have to hack into the S.H.I.E.L.D. intercom." There was a pause as Jarvis tried again. After a few excruciating moments the black square on the screen blinked to life and Fury's glaring, angry face popped up.

"Stark, you'd better have a damn good reason for contacting me at two o'clock in the morning."

Tony put on his best innocent expression before replying arrogantly, "Were you asleep? Because I don't see you dressed in your footie pajamas with a teddy bear, and I'm hoping you don't sleep with that black trench coat because that would be disturbing. You've obviously been awake; therefore, this is perfect timing, no?"

Fury tilted his head to the side and got that look that shows when he's about to start yelling or lecturing. Tony quickly began speaking before that could happen.

"Actually, Fury, I contacted you for a favor," he notified the director quickly. As soon as he said it, he wished he hadn't because it only seemed to make Fury even more agitated.

"At two o'clock in the morning?" he fumed, "Tony, can't you think of a better time to ask for a favor such as, I don't know… _When everyone is awake?_"

"Technically people in Asia are awake right now. Just saying." Tony replied. Fury looked as though he was about to rip Tony's head off, so the billionaire held his hands up to defend himself before saying, "Hold on, and let me explain." Fury glared at him, but after a moment rolled his eye. He didn't look happy, but he waved his hand for Tony to continue. "Alright," Tony began, "my daughter has been a little restless recently and wanted to do something out of the norm. So, I thought that you could show her the ropes and maybe, possibly, consider her for being a recruit?"

Fury snorted and gave Tony a stern look. "Our recruits have been trained from a very young age, and only if they show extreme potential. Do you really expect me to go out on a whim and train a girl who's been hiding her whole life in your mansion and fails to show even a fraction of the talent you and your father have?"

"Wow, Fury… I think that's the closest you've ever come to complimenting me," Tony joked. When he saw Fury's glare sharpen he sighed. "Look, I know what it seems like from your point of view, but she is a great deal more talented than you think."

"Oh, really? Then why isn't she finished with college? And why isn't her name and face plastered on even a single billboard in New York?"

"She's only nineteen, do you really expect her to be done with college already?" he asked. After a moment of a stare down Tony looked up to the ceiling and took a deep breath. He really didn't want to reveal his trump card so soon, but it seemed like the only way to go. "Hold on a sec," he said to Fury as he moved to the second screen that was on his desk.

"Stark, what are you-"

"I'm showing you something that you need to see," the billionaire interrupted.

"Tony, I don't have time to-"

"Just trust me," Tony interrupted for a second time as he opened a video file he had taken of Tyler when she was just out of elementary school. "It'll only take a few moments and then you'll rethink Tyler's _potential_ guaranteed."

Fury made a frustrated grumble but sat back with his arms crossed and watched as Tony moved the video in front of the webcam and clicked play. Tony watched him for any reaction as Fury stared at it begrudgingly and tapped his foot steadily on the ground. The tapping of his foot and angry scowl suddenly stopped only a minute into the video and was replaced with intense interest, and even a little surprise. The corners of Tony's mouth twitched upward as he saw the transformation and waited for the video to finish. Fury remained silent even as the end came about and Tony couldn't help but raise his eyebrows impatiently as he flicked the video screen away.

"Well?" he asked. Fury's eye finally focused on Tony's face and he folded his hands on the desk in front of him.

"Alright, fine. Have it your way."

"Yes!" Tony fist-pumped and smiled from ear to ear; he wouldn't have to break his promise to Tyler. God knows how dangerous that would be. He almost hung up on Fury when a sudden thought crossed his mind. "Oh, I'm bringing her over at eleven thirty tomorrow morning, by the way. See you then, thanks for the favor; you won't be disappointed."

"Stark, wait-"

Fury's voice was cut off as Tony flicked his finger to shut down the computer. He broadened his smile as he stretched; that went perfectly. For the most part. He had hoped to avoid using that video until later instances, but it all worked out in the end so he wasn't concerned. Before he could stop it, a yawn took over his mouth to show just how tired he was. He didn't even bother to look at the clock or change as he threw himself onto his bed, mumbled a quick, "Set the alarm for ten, Jarvis," and passed out. Tyler's life from now on would be interesting, to say the least, and he couldn't wait to hear about it when she was finished training everyday.

* * *

_First chapter=done. Woo! Reviews are accepted and encouraged, if I don't get any then I won't continue the story... Because I will feel depressed. XD True, though, so please review and I shall love you forever. :)_

_-Koury_


	2. More Important Things

Chapter 2: More Important Things

Natasha tossed the file containing her report onto Fury's desk and sat down in one of the chairs stationed in front of it. Though she tried her best to remain looking alert and attentive, she had no doubt that her exhaustion was prevalent. Fury opened the file and skimmed through it with only a small nod of approval when he had finished. He closed the file and folded his hands on top of it and Natasha straightened to meet his piercing gaze without flinching.

"The reason I have called you back so early, Agent Romanoff," he began, "is that I have another mission for you to carry out. It will possibly be the hardest task I have ever sent you on," he paused to pull up a picture of Tony Stark. Natasha only needed to glance at it for a moment before she became increasingly irritated. What did the billionaire mess up so badly that Fury had to send her to fix? And, though she would never in a million years admit it, she was a little worried that Stark did something to hurt himself. A _little _being the key word there. Her eyes flew back to Fury as he began speaking again.

"I'm assuming you need no introduction to Tony, but you probably don't know Tyler Stark," he paused again to pull up another picture. The image was that of a young girl (_wasn't Tyler a boy name?) _in junior high. She had dark brown, curly hair that fell almost to her waist. Her eyes were a brighter shade of brown that showed as much fire and rebellion as Tony's often do. Natasha raised an eyebrow at the picture and looked back at Fury.

She would have asked if she were his daughter, but she didn't have a single trait in common with Tony. She also didn't look a thing like Pepper, the only one who Tony could possibly have a child with, even if he was known to sleep with many women. She had never caught wind of the event of any birth and never saw the girl before even though she had periodically worked with both Pepper and Tony around the time the child would have been born. The thought of Tony having a daughter sent shivers down Natasha's spine; the girl would probably be even worse than him when he was in a good mood.

"Tony's…?" she prompted, almost afraid of the answer.

"Tony's nineteen-year-old adoptive daughter," Fury finished for her. "Being that this was the only picture our researchers could find, he has kept her well hidden. She doesn't go to public school so she doesn't have any picture in a yearbook, and she even uses an alias in her online college class. The only thing we really know about her is that she was adopted by Tony at age eleven. We haven't had enough time to look into her anymore than that."

"Wait," Natasha interrupted, "haven't had time?"

"Correct. We knew of her existence, but decided not to bother keeping her on the charts because she didn't show any potential due to the fact she was merely adopted and wouldn't share Tony's genius. About an hour ago, with no amount of respect for the time in the middle of the night that it was, Tony called requesting a favor. He asked that we show Tyler the ropes, maybe consider her for a possible recruit. At first I denied him, not wanting to deal with another Stark, but he showed me something of interest about her that changed my mind. So now, I'm leaving her training on yours and Clint's shoulders." He raised his hand as Natasha started to protest. "I don't want to hear it. If I had another mission that could only be done by you I'd send you on it, but I don't. So you're in charge of this girl until told otherwise, is that clear?"

"Director Fury-"

"_Is that clear_, Agent Romanoff?"

Natasha gritted her teeth, wanting to protest further, but settled with just a small nod.

"Good," Fury leaned back in his chair, betraying his former irritated manner. "I expect you to brief Agent Barton when he gets back from his mission in approximately one hour. Tony is going to bring Tyler here tomorrow at eleven AM; I won't be here, so you are to meet them and show Tyler how we do things around here."

Natasha again nodded.

"Good, dismissed," Fury ordered with a wave of his hand.

Natasha stood and maintained her cool composure as she exited Fury's office, but once outside she clenched her fists and stormed toward the room that she rarely used. Thankfully the futuristic, metal hallways of the S.H.I.E.L.D. head quarters were empty at- she glanced at a clock on the wall- three thirty in the morning; otherwise she would have had to keep the cool demeanor she had throughout the short trip. Not as easy as you'd think when running on three hours of sleep from the night prior to this one.

This mission felt pointless to her; she knew that Fury had caught wind of the apparent serial killings that had been happening. Shouldn't they be looking into that? Each kill was a young woman somehow connected to S.H.I.E.L.D. Whether it is a relative working for them, or just a friend, they were all connected to the agency. Some of them were actually agents, and though Fury was cold she knew that he wouldn't turn his shoulder away to something like that. Especially when there were five murders accounted by the police; there was no telling how many more bodies that hadn't been found. She saw no reason to waste her time dealing with a recruit when she should be out there figuring out who the murderer was.

When she reached her room she went strait to the bathroom to splash some cold water on her face. This helped her to calm down a bit and think through what she just heard instead of getting worked up over the murders. Fury had to have a reason for not allowing her to investigate, even if she didn't see it. She dried her face on a hand towel as she replayed her conversation with Fury to every detail she could remember. He said that Tyler wasn't that important, that's why they allowed her to remain hidden, but something didn't seem right. If Tyler wasn't anything special, then what did Tony show Fury that was enough to make him reconsider? Was there something about Tyler that they had previously missed, or did Tony have some sort of information he could use for black mail? She took a deep breath and looked at the clock. It was only 3:40, so she had approximately fifty minutes until she had to be on the helicopter platform and waiting for Clint.

Without another moment's hesitation, she walked over to the small desk placed against the back wall of the room that was just about the only thing she ever used when she was here. On it was an expensive Stark Tech computer that Tony had insisted she keep. At first she was sure he had bugged it, but in the end he actually hadn't (she checked it herself), and she needed a good computer for her work. She booted up the computer and clicked open the internet. Though she guessed she probably wouldn't find anything, it was better than sitting around and doing nothing.

When she first typed in "Tyler Stark" all of the sites that were pulled up were only about Tony. Instead, she typed in "Tony Stark's daughter," but that didn't help either. She typed in any key words she could think of and looked on at least fifteen different sites, but all of them came up empty. Fury was right when he said that Tony had kept her hidden well. Halfway through scanning the next site she glanced at the clock and sighed; five minutes until Clint was supposed to arrive. She closed the tabs and turned her computer off before stretching and standing to exit the room.

The steel halls remained empty, save for the one or two guards patrolling, so Natasha arrived at the helipad a little early. She stood off to the side of the large clearing, feet shoulder width apart and hands clasped firmly behind her back, while she thought of how to tell Clint the news. She knew his past mission was hard and there was no doubt he'd be just as tired as her, if not then even more so, so she'd have to be able to get around his extremely possible grumpiness.

There was also the matter of things that annoyed him. They normally got shot by arrows. Teenagers annoyed him; training recruits annoyed him. Natasha would be in no way surprised if Tyler was threatened by an arrow within the first ten minutes of meeting Clint. He would not be happy, no matter how talented the recruit seemed, to be training someone instead of working on some other mission. He had very little tolerance for teaching and answering questions because he often felt that everyone should know the answer. In the end, it didn't really matter how she told Clint the news, he would be angry no matter what. It seemed to her that Fury being gone when Tyler was supposed to arrive wasn't a coincidence, he probably didn't want to deal with an exhausted, ranting Clint. He had far more important things to worry about.

After what seemed to be ages Natasha glanced at her watch with irritation. He was ten minutes later than the time Fury had given her. While it wasn't _technically _late, since the time was approximate, she was getting tired of standing around in the cold air and waiting for him.

As if on cue, the distant sound of helicopter wings broke the silence of the early morning. She looked up at the far away sky to see a few red and white lights that marked the location of the copter. It took a mere two more minutes for it to reach the pad and lower itself onto the solid ground. Natasha had to brace herself against the wind so as not to be knocked off balance and she had to squint as millions of dust particles whipped through the air around her. The blades of the propeller finally slowed and the door slid open to reveal a worn out, but triumphant, Clint Barton. Natasha wasted no time to walk forward and meet him.

"Fury has assigned us a new mission," she informed him before he could say anything in greeting to his fellow agent.

"Already?" Clint scowled as he stepped off of the helicopter and began heading inside. "I just got back from a mission that took two weeks; can't I get a little rest?" He opened the door that led inside and held it open for Natasha who entered and briskly made her way toward the elevator.

"Apparently not," she said as she pushed the button to summon the metal box. "And apparently, this mission could take months."

Clint's head snapped to look at Natasha and his jaw dropped. If he was in a cartoon, it would have gone straight through the floor. Normally he wouldn't be too bothered with a lengthy mission since he had done several before, but _now_? He hadn't had any sleep yet tonight and rarely had time throughout these past two weeks to get any. Not only that, but from what he had heard, S.H.I.E.L.D. was in some kind of trouble and they needed as many agents as possible to stay put in the HQ in case anything happened.

"You have got to be kidding," he breathed as the elevator pinged and the doors slid open. Natasha simply shook her head and stepped into the elevator. Clint took a moment to mull over this news but eventually followed her in. By the time the elevator had taken them down the first four floors his surprise melted into anger. What was Fury hiding from him? If someone was threatening the agency then he needed to know, sooner rather than later. Before he could think much more on the matter, however, Natasha again spoke a little nervously.

"We are going to be training a recruit until told otherwise," she said softly, but firmly.

This, as expected, made Clint's anger skyrocket. The doors of the elevator slid open and Natasha took a step forward to avoid the onslaught of her partner's petulance, but Clint grabbed onto her arm to stop her.

"That's what Fury is calling a mission?" the agent raved. "Training a cocky, blundering idiot instead of dealing with important problems such as how _S.H.E.I.L.D. _is being _threatened _by some anonymous outside force?"

Natasha looked straight into his eyes, holding back any true emotions she had on the matter, and replied smoothly, "Last I checked, both you and I started off as cocky, blundering idiots. Look where we are now, all because we were _trained _how to do things."

Clint's jaw set and his grip on Natasha's arm loosened. He knew she was right, but that didn't make him any more obliged to follow these orders. Natasha swiftly exited the elevator and after a moment's pause Clint followed.

"I don't like this any more than you do, Clint," Natasha said, "but Fury made it clear that this is currently our top priority. If a mission comes up that we need to take part of then we'll stop training the recruit, but only temporarily."

_More secrets_, Clint thought. Why didn't Natasha tell him outright who this recruit was? Did it matter _that _much?

"Speaking of," he said frostily with a quirked eyebrow, "who exactly is this recruit?"

After but a few moments of contemplation Natasha decided that it would be pointless to try to ease Clint into this next part, so she just came right out and said it.

"Tyler Stark, Tony's daughter."

Clint stopped dead in his tracks and stared after Natasha as he tried desperately to process this information.

"Tony's…" he shook his head and jogged to catch up to his partner. "When the hell did Tony get a daughter?!"

"He adopted her at age eleven eight years ago," Natasha replied as she reached her room. She stopped in front of the door and turned to face Clint. "Tony did his best to keep her existence unknown and he did a real good job. Fury did say, however, that she wasn't completely hidden from him, that he knew Tony had adopted her. He just didn't look into it further because she had shown no potential of anything beyond what an average eleven year old would do."

Clint's brow furrowed and he rubbed his fingers on his forehead. "Then why on earth is he asking us to train her?"

"Apparently Tony told Fury something that gave him reason to recruit her."

"Which was…?" Clint let his hand fall to his side and his eyes searched Natasha's.

"I have no idea," she replied honestly.

"Fury didn't tell you?" he frowned and Natasha shook her head. Clint took a moment to look up at the ceiling and run a hand through his sandy brown hair. He looked down again with his frown gone but his irritation still written on his features.

"So basically," he conjectured, "all we know is that her name is Tyler, she's nineteen, and she has something special about her that caused Tony to keep her hidden for eight whole years?"

"Pretty much," Natasha agreed. Clint sighed and pinched his eyes to try to get rid of his weariness.

"Why is it that whenever I think this job couldn't get any harder Fury decides to throw a curve ball at me that strikes me out?"

Natasha gave him a smug look and replied, "What's the matter? The legendary Hawkeye who never misses a target can't do the simple task of training a new recruit?"

Clint glared down at her with ice in his eyes.

"This recruit," he replied, "was raised by Tony. _Tony. _The arrogant, egotistical billionaire who thinks he's better than everyone else. Not only that, she's a _teenager. _They're bad enough when they're on their own but when they were raised by Tony?"

Natasha couldn't help but smile.

"Ironically," she said as she turned to open the door to her room, "I think that if someone was raised by you, and Tony had to look after them, he might respond in the same way." She entered her room and was about to close the door but Clint raised his hand and blocked it from sealing shut.

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?" he inquired.

"You're smart, you can figure it out," she responded with a glint of laughter in her eyes. Clint raised an eyebrow but let his hand fall from the door. Natasha gave him a rare, small smile that she only ever let him get a glimpse of.

"Get some sleep," she ordered quietly, "Tony's supposed to drop off Tyler at eleven tomorrow morning."

The irritation immediately entered Clint's eyes again. "Eleven? _Tomorrow?!_" he paused and counted quickly in his head. "That only gives me seven hours to both sleep _and _prepare myself to deal with a mini Tony!"

Natasha shrugged. "That's when Tony said he'd be here and you just can't tell him any different when he sets his mind to something."

Clint once again placed a hand on his forehead. "Yeah, that's exactly what I'm talking about. I'll bet you ten to one that this Tyler kid will set her mind on something dangerous and ignore us no matter what we try to do to stop her." He sighed and lifted his head with a weak smile. "I don't think it matters how much time we're given, I am never going to be ready for something like that."

Natasha sniffed with a short laugh and replied, "Well, I don't think I can argue with you on that last point, but she did have ten years of her life without Tony, did she not? I don't think she'll be exactly like him."

"Let's hope so," he mumbled. "Either way I'm taking you up on that bet. How about twenty?"

Natasha gave him an indignant look and rolled her eyes. "Fine. Twenty it is. Now go to bed." She gave Clint no more room for arguments as she shut the door quickly. Clint waited a few seconds with a smile on his face before he turned and proceeded to his own room, all the while mulling things over in his head.

He and Tony had, surprisingly, become good friends after Loki's attack last spring. They often got together at Tony's flat to have a drink, but he had never seen his daughter, not once. Tony had never even made the slightest mention of her. So why was he now bringing her into the light of day and insisting that she became a S.H.E.I.L.D agent, of all things? If anyone had a grudge against the agency, it was most definitely Tony.

He shook his head as he entered his room and began to change out of his all black clothes. None of this made any sense and Tony seemed _way _too off character. He moaned as he sank down into his soft bed and closed his eyes. He had no idea where Tony was going with this, but tomorrow would undoubtedly be a long, _long _day.

* * *

Another failed experiment. That made ten. Or was it twenty? He hadn't bothered to count after the first five failed. For all he knew that could have been number forty-two. Not that it mattered; none of the experiments were working. He was _sure _that he had perfected the spell. He checked, double checked, triple checked. There was no way that it should have continued to fail. Or, at least not in the logical sense. This spell seemed to ignore experimental probability entirely, and left him with this. This trash.

Currently he stood over a young woman's body. He detested how each person he tried the spell on seemed to reject it completely, ruining the spell and causing horrible, deadly side effects. He _especially _detested how each time he tried the spell the effects kept getting worse and worse.

The first one wasn't too bad, the girl he had cast the spell on simply keeled over when the stress became too much; she had a heart attack. So, all he needed was to find someone who was stronger physically, right? Wrong. The person he chose for that had hardly any mental power and became a lunatic in less than two days. He spared her the trouble of killing herself by blasting her with a deadly amount of magic. He continued trying to find different targets, but all of them kept ending up in unpleasant deaths, this last one being the worst.

It took a few days before she realized something was wrong; she had apparently begun to hear voices in her head. It drove her mad. Not just mad, but power-hungry type of mad. She began killing anyone who tried to bother her after she shoved herself in the corner of an alleyway and started rocking back and forth. Soon enough she started frothing at the mouth as though she had rabies, and she began to claw at herself as though she were trying to get rid of something latching itself onto her. When that didn't work she began banging her head on the wall behind her until she became knocked out. When she woke up again, she continued.

This went on for at least two days before someone called the police to investigate. By the time the authorities arrived, however, she had drowned in her own bile as she stared up at the sky and tried to spit up the sickness her body thought was in her digestive system. It disgusted him. Thoroughly. Now he was looking down at her body in the morgue with a scowl. It occurred to him after the first few bodies that he should get rid of the evidence and destroy the bodies before anyone could get to them, but he let himself slip this time. This one he would have to leave for the Midguardians to deal with.

He turned with a flourish of his cape before disappearing into thin air. As he traveled to his current hideout he decided that he would need to lay low for a while so that he could come up with a new spell that hopefully didn't cause so many side effects. After all, he had time. His incompetent brother still thought that the clone he sent to be captured was the real him. They were all of them fools.

He was a god; he couldn't be captured so easily. Right now he was safe enough to remain on Midguard for a while as he planned for the second attack. The _real _attack. But he couldn't do it alone. That's what his spell was for.

He arrived at the abandoned warehouse he had made his home with a scowl. He hated the thought that he had to use a Midguardian with another spell. It didn't work out so well when he did it the first time, and still wasn't working out. But, this spell… it was made to be full proof. His lips twitched upward as he thought about what would happen if he could spread the spell like a disease; everyone would be defenseless and under his control. There would be true order. And the order would be his to command, as a god and king should. He would not fail a second time.

* * *

_O.o I scare myself when I write as the bad guys. Should I be worried at all? XD Please, tell me how I did! I LOVE constructive criticism! Oh, and thanks for reading. ^^  
_

_-KC_


	3. The Hawk and the Widow

Chapter 3: The Hawk and the Widow

Tyler glared out of the window of her father's sleek, mahogany Audi R8 e-tron, an expensive sports convertible. The trees and bushes were whizzing by as Tony drove her to this "S.H.I.E.L.D." headquarters he told her about. Her arms were folded and her jaw was clenched as the minutes continued ticking toward the time she would have to say goodbye to him. Instead of, as she had hoped, him being with her at least _some _of the time while she trained, he told her to pack her bags because she was staying at the HQ for the duration of her training. After eight years of barely being able to talk to him he just decided to drop her off with people she didn't even know.

As the silence persisted, Tony's index fingers began tapping anxiously on the wheel. He glanced at his daughter and finally spoke. "C'mon, Ty, don't be like that," he pleaded.

Tyler's gaze remained fixated on the blur of foliage outside her window as she replied with anger, "Well, what do you want me to be like, huh?"

"I don't know," Tony replied sarcastically, "maybe a little more ecstatic that I got you an opportunity most people can only dream of their whole life, or something to that effect. At the very least grateful, it wasn't easy getting what you asked for at two o'clock in the morning."

"Oh, is that so?" Tyler growled and made eye contact with him for the first time since she found out where they were going. "You basically got me a daycare that you can just throw me in until you think I've been there long enough."

Tony returned his daughter's glare tenfold and said, with as much control as he could muster, "I don't appreciate you talking to me with that tone, Tyler. I did exactly what you asked, you will now have highly trained people that can help you learn to protect yourself, and when you're ready you can use the suit."

"Tony, I could care less if you told me that you were taking me to Japan to train with a whole entire school of ninja! I thought that I was going to be doing this with _you. _This was supposed to be something that you did _with _me, for at least a few hours a week. But, no, you're dropping me off with complete strangers."

Tony shrugged. "They're not strangers to me."

"But they are for me, Tony," Tyler snapped. "_I'm _going to be left alone with an organization of _assassins. _Of all things, I thought you said you didn't want me to put a target on my back!"

"They're not all assassins," Tony offered, but didn't try further as he looked over to see one of Tyler's infamous "looks." Many of these looks had different meanings that were generally hard to make out, but not this one. This one she learned from him and its meaning was absolutely clear: _Are you really saying that right now? Could you be any more dimwitted? _Strangely, since he was on the receiving end of this look, he didn't find it as amusing as when he gave it to others. Her looks always worked to some extent, and he hated it, probably just as much as everyone he'd ever looked at in the same manner.

"Tell me something, Tony," Tyler hissed, "when was the last time you spent some quality time with me apart from occasionally saying good night?"

Tony's answer came easily, "For your birthday we went snowboarding. And then zip lining. And then you got to try to fly my helicopter. Completely terrifying, by the way, you're never going to do that again."

"My birthday," Tyler responded through gritted teeth, "was nine months ago. Are you saying that I can only hang out with you like family _once a year_?"

"Listen, Tyler," he began again, but was cut off by his daughter leaning toward him with fire in her eyes.

"No, you listen," she interrupted, "I understand it was hard for you to get me this opportunity so I'll take it. I'm not a fool. But, that doesn't mean that I'm going to like it, nor does it give you the merit to just forget about me. If you decide to neglect the fact that you adopted me then the next time you see me will be when I come to pack my things and move to a place you can't reach me. I am old enough; it's not an empty threat. Understand, _Daddy?_"

Tony glanced at her with his jaw set; where had this come from? She had been perfectly fine last night and even before that. She had never once made it clear to him that she felt so neglected… had she? Frankly, he couldn't remember anything about it, but if she actually _did… _He didn't even want to think about it. He took a deep breath as the forested area broke away to reveal a large, suspicious-looking warehouse that was speckled with guards, guns, and spotlights for catching sight of any trespassers.

"Oh, look," Tony smoothly changed the subject, "we're already here. Remember what I told you; their threats are empty. Ignore them and do whatever you want. Secretively, of course. It's rather annoying when they're angry, and they'll probably yell at me if they yell at you."

Tyler rolled her eyes as they pulled up to the large metal gates that surrounded the bulky white building. She in no way was going to be able to get through that thick skull of Tony's. As the car slowed to a stop, one of the guards walked up to the driver's side of the car and Tony rolled down his window so he could speak.

"ID," the guard demanded. Tony smiled at him like he did to most people who he didn't think were worth his time.

"Tony Stark," he informed haughtily, "you should now my face. Plastered up on billboards everywhere and stuff."

The guard just continued to look at him blankly. Tony rolled his eyes.

"Alright, fine. Just a sec," he mumbled as he began to search through the compartments in his car. "Where did I put it?" he breathed under his breath as he patted his pockets. Tyler couldn't believe him; he forgot the ID he needed to get into the place on top of everything else.

"Really?" she asked with indignation. Tony glanced up at her as he was bending down to check the floor.

"What?" he inquired innocently. She just shook her head and went back to glaring out of the window. He really was an idiot.

"Ah, here it is," Tony said as he pulled a card with his photo out from underneath the carpet of his car. Above his picture the words **S.H.I.E.L.D. Agency**were printed in big, bold letters. "Not sure how it got there…" Tony mumbled as he held it out to the guard who looked at him like he was an incompetent fool. Suddenly Tyler felt like shrinking until she was too small to be seen. It was official; she did _not_ like to go out in public with him. The guard need only glance at the ID before he nodded to another guy who seemed to be controlling the gate.

"Welcome to the runway, Mr. Stark," he greeted as he handed the card back to Tony who took it back with a fake smile. Tyler watched with curiosity as the large gates started to slide in either direction to let them through. Sure, she wasn't entirely happy with Tony for this decision, but she could still be a little excited, right?

As soon as the gates had opened enough for the car to fit through, Tony hit the gas and swung into the large parking lot that was before the warehouse. It was then that what the guard said had registered in Tyler's mind. Runway? Did that mean that she was taken here to be put on a plane, and then flown elsewhere? S.H.I.E.L.D was certainly not forthcoming about where their actual headquarters were. She wouldn't be surprised if they gagged her and put a bag over her head while they were in the air.

Tony pulled the car into the closest open spot he could get and switched off the engine. He turned to Tyler and was about to say something, but she interrupted as she opened her door.

"Pop the trunk," she ordered, and slammed the door shut. Tony sat there and stared where she had been sitting only a few moments earlier before he nodded and mouthed the word "okay" with irritation as he turned to open the trunk. Once the trunk had lifted with a pop, Tyler raised the lid up the rest of the way and grabbed her bag swiftly before slamming it closed. Tony hadn't even fully exited the car yet by the time she began walking to the large entrance of the warehouse that had only been opened a couple seconds ago. She was able to make out several large jets that looked more like fighters than something you would ride in.

"Tyler!" Tony called as he jogged to catch up to her. She ignored him and continued to walk at her brisk pace. When Tony caught up he made sure to stick by her shoulder, no matter how much she pushed her speed. "Seriously, Ty," he said with exasperation, "why are you lashing out all of a sudden?"

"Gee, I wonder," Tyler responded sarcastically. They were near the entrance now, and two people clad in black that Tyler hadn't noticed before stepped forward. One was a woman with bright red hair that fell to her shoulders. Tyler couldn't help but notice that while she looked very attractive in both figure and facial features, she carried herself in a way that would probably ward off any man who thought of trying to flirt with her. The blood red lipstick didn't help. The other was a man with sandy brown hair that was slightly spiked up in the front, and black sunglasses. He obviously didn't like to show his entire face, and it was probably a good thing. Due to his rather large muscles he made Tyler nervous enough when she couldn't see his eyes; she didn't want to know what it felt like to have his stare pierce her.

"Tony," the woman greeted cordially as he and Tyler stopped in front of them.

"Natasha, Clint," Tony smiled and offered a hug with his arms wide. Neither of them moved so he just clapped his hands together in front of him. "Right, well, this is my daughter Tyler," he introduced as he pointed his two index fingers towards her, his hands intertwined.

"Hello," the woman began, "I am agent Natasha Romanoff and this is my partner, Clint Barton. We're the ones who will be supervising your training."

"Nice to meet you," Tyler said with a smile, trying to keep her voice light and happy. Clint merely nodded to her and it became clear that of the two agents it was going to be Natasha that she would hear the most.

_Or maybe not_, she decided as Clint began to address Tony.

"Been a while, hasn't it?" he asked with a deep, penetrating voice.

"Well, you know," Tony responded with a wink, "being a billionaire and all."

This only caused him to receive what would have been a sharp glare if Clint wasn't wearing his glasses. Disheveled, Tony turned to Tyler.

"Well, I'll see you later then," he said with a hidden meaning behind his eyes that neither of the agents caught, and Tyler ignored. She didn't respond as he pulled her into a hug and planted a light kiss on her cheek. He pulled back to look at her with some concern.

"Hey," he said quietly as he noticed her anger still sparking, "I will come to see you, alright?"

Tyler simply stared at the ground as though it was interesting. Tony stood there a moment with his hands on her shoulders before letting go and smiling widely to the two agents.

"Gotta run," he said before turning around and going back to his car. Now that he was gone, Tyler felt that she might be able to lift her spirits so that she didn't seem like a nuisance to the agents in front of her.

"So, what's the plan?" she inquired with excitement. She had to admit, it was pretty cool to be in the presence of secret agents, assassins, whatever they were.

"Follow us," Natasha replied bluntly as she and Clint turned around toward the closest of the jets. Tyler's excitement rose; she was going to be flying on a jet that looked like it could blow a whole country up, or withstand nuclear attacks. It was amazing how dangerous the aircrafts looked.

It was then she realized how crazy this was: her, flying off in some jet with people that could probably end her life in a heartbeat. It was weird enough to be adopted by a famous billionaire, but this? Putting aside her father's attitude, how lucky could a girl get?

Needless to say, stepping onto the jet made her excitement soar. What was it that she was mad about, again? Oh, yeah, something to do with Tony. But right then, who cared?

The interior of the jet was just about as futuristic as all of the trinkets Tony had. It was metal and spacious with a large design in the middle of the floor of something that looked like an eagle. There were eight seats in total, two being the pilot's seats and the rest being for any passengers. Clint and Natasha were busy strapping themselves into the pilot seats so Tyler quickly went to the closest seat up front on the right and sat down with her bag on the floor next to her. She pulled the restraints over her head, strapped them, and began fidgeting with the anticipation of the flight to come.

"Don't touch anything if you get out of your seat," Natasha cautioned as the jet started up. Tyler pulled her bag under her feet to keep it in place and looked quizzically at the agent though all she could see was the back of her head. Get out of her seat? She was allowed to do that? She supposed it made sense; once you were high in the air on a regular airplane you were allowed to get up if you needed.

Slowly the jet began to move forward and Tyler found herself straining to see through the windows up front since there weren't any others around her. Clint seemed to be the main pilot, being that he was the one who expertly maneuvered the jet out of the warehouse to the right and onto the long runway. Tyler's stomach was fluttering now; she was flying on a jet with two secret agents. If she was the fangirling type she would probably be squealing by now. Thankfully, she wasn't, and she remained silent as they got the OK to take off and the jet began picking up speed.

The take off was smooth, a lot smoother than a normal plane, and Tyler couldn't help but wonder just what made this jet tick. It was a habit that she got from Tony, though she was no where near as good as him in figuring it out. In fact, she was a newborn compared to him when it came to these things. Suddenly a scowl formed on her lips without her notice. She might not be book smart like him but at least she wasn't a dimwit when it came to other peoples feelings. She realized all too late that she looked grumpy, and Natasha, who had turned around to say something, caught her.

"You alright, Tyler?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. Tyler looked up at the agent with surprise. After a moment she blinked and shook the scowl off of her face.

"Yeah, sorry," she smiled apologetically. Natasha seemed to know Tyler was agitated and despite the reassurance she stared holes into the college student.

"If something's bothering you that will affect your training then we have to know," Natasha said firmly. Tyler fervently shook her head.

"No, no, it's nothing that I can't handle," she reassured, "its just Tony."

This seemed only to catch the assassin's attention even more.

"What about him?" she inquired. Tyler snorted and looked away.

"He's just a thick headed idiot sometimes," she admitted. Surprisingly, Natasha smiled a little.

"He bothers me even when I don't have to live with him," she agreed.

Tyler looked at her and smiled with a new sense of connection. At the very least Natasha wasn't one of those cold shoulder types; she would have fun getting to know her.

"Well," Natasha continued, "why don't you tell me about yourself? Since we'll be together from here on out it would probably be best to get to know each other."

"Oh, um," Tyler stuttered, caught a little off-guard. "Well, I, uh… I'm not sure where to start." She snorted and shook her head. "Sorry," she apologized.

"No worries," Natasha leaned back in her chair with a smile, "Take your time."

Tyler smiled as she, too, leaned back and relaxed. For some reason, even though she had the knowledge that Natasha was an assassin, she felt at ease talking to her. She didn't know if she was just trying to work her to get information, but at the moment she didn't care.

"There's not really much to know," Tyler said bashfully. No matter how at ease she felt, she was still shy when it came to talking about herself due to how small she felt next to Tony.

"Alright, how about I just ask you questions?" Natasha asked with a hint of understanding in her voice. Tyler flushed a little and nodded with agreement. Natasha looked at her for a few moments, causing her to be a little fidgety, before she decided on a question. "How did you meet Tony? I still can't grasp the fact that he adopted someone."

Tyler smiled. "Yeah, I can hardly believe it myself. Especially the way we met; if I were him I would have hated me. I was a pretty troubled kid, being in the foster system since the day I was born, and I let it all out by acting like a boy. I wore boy clothes, cut my hair short, participated in any violent sports that I could think of, and my favorite thing to do was skateboarding.

"That's actually how I met him. I was angry about something, not quite sure what, but when I was angry I always boarded as fast as I physically could without any thought to other people's health. I myself didn't wear pads or a helmet. That day I was particularly angry and I didn't bother myself with watching where I was going. I noticed that I was about to run into someone too late for me to do anything, and he himself wasn't paying attention to the road he was walking on.

"Within a split second both Tony and I were sprawled on the floor, much to his displeasure. I was actually kind of glad, because I landed on top of him instead of on the hard floor. Before I had the chance to say anything to him, I was wrenched off of Tony by Happy who was fussing as normal. I tried to shake myself free but he had an iron grip and I had no hope of escape. Tony waved off the people who were trying to help him up and pushed himself to his feet.

"To this day I don't really know what he saw in me that made him do it, but as he looked at me he asked, 'What's your name, kid?'

"At first I didn't say anything, and I continued to try to shake Happy off. He only let go when Tony told him to. Of all the things he could have done after that, he asked me where I was going in such a hurry.

"I replied something to the effect of, 'None of your business.' That only egged him on. Before I knew it I was sitting in some overly expensive restaurant with the famous billionaire Tony Stark. However, I had no idea of his true identity until after he adopted me. During the meal Tony was able to coax things out of me that I had never told anyone, and apparently I did the same thing to him. He supposedly hated it, but I don't believe that. There was something about us that just… clicked.

"I didn't want to leave when the meal was over, but I tried not to let him see it. Turns out I wasn't a very good actor, so he came to the decision to find me again, and he did. He found me while I wasn't at home again and again and again, each time bringing with him a smile that I would cling on to even after he left. It wasn't long before he took me to his tower and gave me a tour. Strangely, my mind couldn't grasp the fact that this was _his _tower; I just couldn't connect the dots. About a year later I had to move homes, but I was going to move to a different state. I had to leave, not only all of my friends, but Tony who was the only person I saw in my life as a father figure.

"Without much time to waste I grabbed my skateboard and did what I always did, but this time I had a place lodged in my subconscious that I knew I had to go. I skated across nearly half the city until I found myself in front of Tony's tower. It was a lot smaller than it is now, but breathtaking nonetheless. It took me a moment to realize I wasn't there for gawking before I threw my skateboard down outside and ran through the doors.

"I asked for Tony at the front counter but I was continuously denied access to his quarters. Soon I began to make trouble, demanding that I see him. By some off-chance, Tony came down the precise moment before I was thrown out by security. He took me up to the top floor and asked me what was wrong and everything just spilled out of my mouth. Eventually I had my face buried in his chest and my arms wrapped around his torso. From what I remember he kept a straight face as he told me that it would be alright and that he was going to have someone take me back home.

"I didn't understand, I thought surely he could do something. Then I thought he just didn't want to, that he didn't like me. I spent the last week I had in New York moping, even though I knew that I should make the most of it. On the day that I had to leave I started dragging my feet and my foster parents wondered why I was so disappointed when someone was going to adopt me. Apparently I ignored them earlier when they were talking to me about it because I was hating on Tony so much. I couldn't believe it, but sure enough, a little while later Tony was there on my front door step. He had gone out of his way to make sure no one knew it was him who was adopting me, and he told my foster parents to keep their lips sealed." Tyler paused and shrugged, "He's been my dad ever since."

It was then Tyler noticed Natasha's smug look.

She blinked with surprise and asked incredulously, "What?"

"Nothing, nothing at all," Natasha shook her head, "It's just that it's rare I hear anything so sweet happening with Tony. Aside from Pepper, of course."

Tyler sniffed and looked away. "Yeah, well, it isn't all sugar and candy," she practically growled. There her anger was again, making her seem like some spoiled brat. Natasha didn't seem to see it that way, though. She was about to begin speaking when the sound of Clint clearing his throat caught her attention. She swiveled around in her chair to see what was up and the two began talking in hushed voices.

Tyler didn't mind it; as long as she wasn't spilling out her life story anymore then she was good. The two agents' talking seemed to continue on for hours, though Tyler knew it couldn't have been more than a few minutes. When she was tired time moved slowly, and she was exhausted. Like Tony she rarely had a decent night's sleep and it often caught up to her when she least expected it- like now.

The low hum of the jet only seemed to encourage her drowsiness and it wasn't long before her eyes closed and she began sinking into her subconscious. She seemed to recall a few times where she had tried to wake herself up so that she didn't embarrass herself, but neither her mind nor body listened. So, she faded out of the conscious realm and slept. For a _long _time.

* * *

_O.M.G. I have been writing like a monster, literally. I have two more chapters that are finished, aside from a couple edits that I need to do. Weird! I never write this fast. I hope you like this story as much as I like to write it. If you do, tell me! It takes only a minute to review. :) Thanks, all! 3  
_

_-KC_


	4. Secrets and More Secrets

Chapter 4: Secrets and More Secrets

Tyler shifted restlessly in her bed. What time was it? She couldn't sense any light beyond her eye lids… did she wake up in the middle of the night due to Tony moving around outside her door again? With an almost silent moan she opened her eyes and looked at the alarm clock on her bedside table. It was four… in the afternoon?!

It was then that she realized the clock she was looking at wasn't hers. Nor was the bedside table. Or the pillow she was sleeping on. Her eyes stretched wide and she sat up violently, adrenaline coursing through her veins. Where was she? How did she get there? She breathed in deeply to keep herself from panicking as she assessed her surroundings.

It was dark only because the metal shutters over the window to her right were closed… Metal? The heck? She shook her head and continued to look around. To her left was the door leading outside and a metal desk stationed next to it. In front of her, on the other side of the room, was an open door that led to a bathroom. Next to it were two sliding doors built into the wall that she assumed opened to become a closet. There were some arm chairs and a metal coffee table in between the bed and the closet. Was that what this entire place was made out of? Metal? The overall theme of the room made it feel like she was in a jail cell or something. She was surprised that the bed she was on had a comfortable mattress.

It took her a moment to realize that a large bag was sitting on one of the arm chairs in front of her, and that it was hers that she had packed earlier. Then everything came back; Tony had taken her to a giant air strip and dropped her off with Clint and Natasha who took her onto a jet to fly to their secret head quarters. She remembered talking with Natasha during the flight but she didn't recall ever arriving at… oh, no. She moaned and plopped her face into her hands.

She had fallen asleep on the jet and they were probably unable to wake her so they had to carry her or something. How embarrassing! That was not a good first impression. She felt like she should just curl up in a ball and remain in the room so that she didn't have to deal with the scorn of the agents… How many people had seen as she was taken to her room? She didn't really have the urge to find out.

After a deep breath Tyler pulled her face out of her hands and pushed the white sheets that were covering her aside. Her shoes lay next to her bed and she couldn't help but wonder who it was who had taken them off… Yep, she would never get rid of this day. Ever. She would forever be known as Miss Sleeperton or something stupid like that. Joy.

She slipped her shoes on and walked over to the window to open the shutters. Outside there was… water. A lot of water. She couldn't see anything other than water. Was she on an aircraft carrier or something? What kind of head quarters was this?

She turned and went into the bathroom to check that she looked acceptable enough to leave, and, nope. She only needed to glance in the mirror when she was in the doorway to see that her hair was flying all over the place. She walked over to her bag and sifted through its contents to find the small pack she had put all of her hygiene items in. Once she found it she pulled it out and reentered the bathroom. Thankfully, though her hair looked as though it was spazzing out, it wasn't too hard to brush through and in just a couple minutes she decided that she looked well enough to leave. And walk right into a sea of scorn. She moaned again and face-palmed.

_Stop thinking about it, Tyler, _she told herself. _Just go out there and take them by storm. Let them know that you won't make such a fool of yourself again._

Her pep talk barely helped to get rid of the flutters that she now felt in her stomach. Would they just send her away after what happened? That would suck a lot of butt. She would never again venture into the outside world.

She took one last deep breath, turned on her heels, marched right over to the door, and opened it with her head held high. Outside, the hall was made of, surprise: metal. Much to Tyler's relief, it seemed that the place was deserted. She closed the door and looked at its surface to see if there was any number on it so that she knew where to look when she wanted to come back. Thankfully, there was a number and letter on it as though it were an apartment room. That meant she would be at least a little less likely to get lost.

25-B. She had to remember that. 25-B, 25-B. Hopefully she didn't forget it by the time she wanted to return. She turned around and looked from her right to her left, not sure which way she should go. On a gut feeling she decided to go left to see if she could find anyone. Though she was generally quiet when she walked, due to the metal floor her vans made an aggravating tapping noise as she traveled through the hall. For some reason she hated it when she could hear herself move, even if she was alone in her house.

As she continued walking down the hall her gaze searched every door she saw warily. They all had a number on them that decreased as she continued on. 19-B, 18-B, 17-B. If the numbers were decreasing it was good, right? She would end at some sort of elevator or lobby or… something. She didn't want to knock on the doors because she had no idea who, or what, she might find behind them. There could be some type of behemoth guard; not what she wanted to deal with currently.

When she reached the end of the hall there was indeed an elevator. She pushed the button and waited as it went from the top floor down to hers. When the doors slid open she stepped forward and realized just in the niche of time that she was about to run into someone. She stopped and looked up to find a tall, muscular man standing in front of her. He, surprisingly, wasn't wearing black; he looked like just an average guy. Except for the fact that his blond hair was combed to the side and he looked incredibly old-fashioned.

"Oh," the man grunted, obviously not expecting to see someone waiting on the other side of the doors.

"Uh, hi," Tyler managed with a smile. "I'm new here, my name's Tyler."

The man offered a polite smile. "Steve Rogers," he said with his hand held out. Tyler took his hand and shook it; his grip was firm. Scary type of firm.

"Nice to meet you," she said as she let go of his hand and stepped into the elevator so that the doors didn't close on them. "I was wondering if you could direct me to where Natasha and Clint are?"

"Actually, they sent me down here to see if you were awake yet," he replied with a respectful tone that somehow made Tyler want to cuddle him like a teddy bear. Was that weird? She watched for a moment as he pressed the button that would take the elevator to the floor just below the deck.

"I see," she said after a moment and then looked away, suddenly bashful. Was he there when she arrived? She hoped not. Then again, it was in the middle of the day that the jet landed; it wouldn't be too surprising if the whole ship had seen her… Again, curling up in a ball seemed pretty darn good at that moment.

Tyler stayed silent, not really sure what she would say to a secret agent. _So, you kill any conspirators today? _She could only imagine where that conversation would go. If she knew anything about people like Steve it would be that everything was a secret. Her own father couldn't even tell her anything about… well, anything.

_Look at that, New York City was demolished. How did that happen? _

_Can't tell you. _

_Gee, thanks. You were almost killed in a nuclear explosion and my home was almost entirely destroyed, but that's fine. Your little secrets are more important than me, I get it._

That's how it always was when she talked to Tony about the things that she _knew _he was a part of. Classified this, classified that. Now that she thought about it, it was probably way worse with S.H.I.E.L.D. Suddenly, her excitement she had from earlier started to fade.

"You don't have to worry about that," Steve blurted out suddenly.

Tyler looked up at him with surprise at the sudden noise. "Huh?"

"When you landed," he explained. "You were asleep but you were able to wake up enough that you didn't have to be carried or anything. I thought that's what you might be a little uneasy about."

Tyler let out a short, nervous laugh. "Spot on," she confirmed. "It wasn't too embarrassing was it?"

Steve shook his head. "Not at all, Miss. You looked perfectly normal until you entered your room. Then you sort of collapsed on the bed."

Tyler smiled; he even spoke old fashioned. Or maybe he was in the military; they often called women Ma'am or Miss there, depending on age. Whatever his reason was, it made her feel a lot more mature than she had been feeling a moment earlier. At least, though, she didn't make a _complete _fool of herself. The elevator doors slid open and Steve exited. Tyler watched after him for a moment, suddenly a little unsure whether to follow him or not...

"This way," he informed politely as he realized Tyler didn't make a move to go after him.

"Oh," Tyler had almost forgot that he had been sent by Natasha and Clint to find her. "Yeah," she said and stepped outside the elevator. As she followed him down the metal hallway she realized that he seemed familiar. Maybe Tony had talked about someone like him before? She honestly had no clue but if he was a part of S.H.I.E.L.D. then he definitely knew her father.

"So," Steve broke the silence tentatively. "I hear you're Tony's daughter?"

"Yeah," Tyler said with a smile in his direction. She was right! He was a friend of her father's. _Damn_, she was good. Too bad she wasn't on some game show for that. Not that she realy needed the money…

"I see," he replied with something to the effect of ice in his voice.

She glanced at him with confusion. "Is there… a problem with that?" she asked, unsure where the sudden coldness came from.

Steve looked at her with astonishment and stuttered, "Oh, no, not at all Ma'am, it's just…" he paused and smiled apologetically. "I don't get along with him very well."

Tyler nodded, taking mental note that Steve couldn't seem to decide whether he should call her Ma'am or Miss; it was kind of cute. In a teddy bear type of way.

"Yeah," she sniffed a moment later, "that's not much of shocker. I'm pretty sure he knows how to irk every single person on this planet. Don't worry, though. I do not, for the most part, share his monster of an ego."

This brought on an amused smile from Steve and she just couldn't help but smile back. It seemed that Steve would be able to look past the fact that Tony was her father, and that lifted a little of the weight placed on Tyler's shoulders. She didn't want anyone disliking her for something her father did.

As Tyler followed Steve she tried to take in her surroundings so that she could remember where everything was to the best of her ability. The interior of the headquarters was still all metal; it was just painted white in places rather than left its natural color like in her room. There were several different rooms that contained a number of different things. Some had lab equipment, others seemed like break rooms, and there were a couple that looked as though they held no purpose whatsoever, aside from the armed men stationed inside them.

There were many people who walked through the halls quickly as though they were high school kids that were about to be late to one of their classes. Some were dressed with armor, others dressed in blue uniforms, and still others had lab coats. None of them seemed to pay any attention as she and Steve walked by. This made her hopes rise a little, maybe not everyone paid enough attention to notice her sluggishly moping through the halls led by Clint and Natasha.

As Tyler looked to her left through a window that just appeared she found that she could see a large room filled with at least forty agents, all stationed on their own computers. There was a floor that was raised slightly above the computers that had a large table in the middle where Clint and Natasha were currently seated. Beyond the table, towards the very end of the platform, several monitors that overlooked the rest of the computers were placed in a half-circle. Tyler guessed it was for the captain who was currently absent, as there was no one standing there.

Tyler looked forward again in just enough time to see Steve walk through the automatic door that led into the large room and she hurried to catch up.

Clint and Natasha broke off of their conversation and looked up as they noticed the new comers. This time Clint didn't have his sunglasses on and Tyler decided that she might never be able to make direct eye contact with him; it was as though his eyes were made of steel. They were a sort of silvery gray and currently they held... irritation. To say the least. She sincerely hoped that it wasn't her he was mad at. Natasha, on the other hand, looked at her with a warm smile.

"'Afternoon, Sleeping Beauty," she greeted playfully. Tyler sighed.

"Don't bring it up," she begged as she sat in one of the chairs across from the elder woman, "I can't believe that I did that to you on the first day; I am _so _sorry. I'm not even going to try to explain how embarrassed I am about that."

Clint looked as though he was about to say something but he stopped as a thump sounded from underneath the table. Did Natasha just kick him? She began speaking again so soon after it happened that Tyler didn't have the time to tell.

"Oh, no," Natasha soothed, "don't worry about it. We were actually sort of glad because we hadn't had any time to prepare for your training or even rest after our last mission." She smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry; we won't hold it against you. This time."

Tyler returned the smile gratefully. "Thank you. And I promise there won't be another time that you would have to hold it against me."

Natasha nodded and glanced over to Steve who had taken a seat a couple chairs away from Tyler without a word.

"I'm assuming he's introduced himself?" she asked.

Tyler nodded with a smile. "I almost collided with him when I went to enter the elevator. Neither of us really expected each other."

A look of amusement glinted in Natasha's eyes. "Did he only tell you his name?" she asked curiously. Tyler's brow furrowed at the strange question and her eyes flicked over to Steve before they came to Natasha again.

"Yes," she said with uncertainty. "Why?"

"Oh, nothing," Natasha waved it away with her hand. "Just wondering, that's all."

Tyler nodded slowly and again looked at Steve who was suddenly interested in the glass table in front of him. Exactly what was it that they weren't telling her? She found it hard to believe that they expected her to work with them if they had however many zillions of secrets that they seemed content to keep from her.

"Anyways," Clint spoke up, drawing everyone's attention. "Generally when we train our spies we start them off with the basics. Self-defense sort of things. Have you had any experience in that aspect?"

Tyler nodded. "Recently I took a couple defense classes, but I wouldn't say I'm much of an expert."

"Well, I'll be the judge of that," Clint replied with... was that a threat she heard in his voice? She was suddenly freaking out internally. She already made it to her trainer's bad side and she had absolutely no clue what she did. Was it because she fell asleep? That would _really _make her want to strangle someone.

"I'll be training with you for flexibility," Natasha informed. "It's one of the best things a girl can have in battle. Steve will help you with strength training."

Steve nodded in agreement.

"Once we decide that you can move on," Clint continued, "then we'll narrow down our focus to things like being able to shoot, honing your ability to persuade a possible hostile, fine tuning your senses so that you're not caught off guard, etcetera. If at any point during your training we find that you're particularly good at a certain skill then we'll shift our focus to bring that skill up to its height. Pretty straight forward. Questions?"

Tyler paused a moment before nodding. "Will I be able to get a tour of the place? I don't exactly know where everything is..."

"Of course," Steve spoke up. "Since we don't have enough time left in the day for training I'll take you around."

"Alright, cool," Tyler smiled. "One more thing, though, when will we begin everyday?"

"Breakfast for us is at seven," Natasha informed. "We'll start everyday when we're done eating and the day will go until dinner which is served from five to seven. Hopefully our only break will be at lunch eventually, but we don't want to kill you on the first day so we'll have more than one."

Tyler nodded. "Sounds good."

"Well then, go take your tour," Clint dismissed. "We still have things to do."

Natasha looked at Clint and Tyler thought sure she could see a warning behind the agent's eyes, but her attention was ripped away when Steve stood.

"Ma'am?" he asked as he motioned for her to take the lead. Tyler stood with a smile and exited the room. It was official; Steve was Tyler's teddy bear. No oneelse could have him. He was so polite she found it hard to believe that he was some sort of secret agent or assassin. Then again… he did have whatever secret he was hiding. That had to mean that he was the real deal.

The tour took a little more than an hour, and Steve told her that he only showed her the parts that would be important to her training. How big was this darn thing? Steve said that even he wasn't exactly sure. The last place that Steve took her was the kitchen so that he could show her how to get from there to her room. It was the first place she needed to be everyday and generally she would travel with either him or the other two to wherever they needed to be afterwards, so if she knew how to get to the kitchen she should be set for a while.

Again no one had confronted them as Steve had shown Tyler the whereabouts of most of the important things, but that changed once they got to the kitchen. As soon as she and Steve walked through the door they were greeted by a kind looking doctor who held a steaming cup of coffee in his hands. He had short, wavy brown hair and dark eyes that seemed to be hiding something dangerous, but he didn't at all seem hostile. He wasn't too tall and he wore extremely nice clothing. Like, button-up shirt and slacks kind of nice. What kind of person would wear that on an aircraft carrier, of all things?

"Steve," the man looked surprised as he saw the agent. "I thought you had gone off somewhere to rip up a punching bag."

Steve smiled as he stepped forward to shake the man's outstretched hand. "Dr. Banner," he greeted. "I'm equally as shocked to find you here, since you're supposed to be… avoiding stressful situations."

Dr. Banner shrugged and placed his free hand in his pocket. "You know the Director. He insisted that I help with the uh... ongoing investigation."

Steve nodded in understanding as Dr. Banner took a sip of his coffee.

"You sure you should be drinking that?" Steve asked a moment later with uncertainty. The doctor smiled as though he expected the question sooner or later.

"It's decaf," he smiled.

"Oh, gotcha," Steve said with relief. Why was it that the agent was worried about someone drinking coffee?

Tyler simply stood there as the two conversed, feeling rather awkward. The way they paused before saying some things made her feel like they were hiding still more information from her. Yay, more secrets! She had hardly spent an hour and a half with the people here and she was already tired of being kept in the dark. That was a pretty challenging feat to overcome considering she lived with an over protective Tony Stark who told her next to nothing.

She didn't want to irritate them with a bunch of questions, but still... Who was this Director guy? And the "ongoing investigation"? And the coffee. What was with the whole worrying about _coffee? _It was a liquid that was made for people to drink, was it not? Had she been lied to about that her whole life as well? Scary thought. Before she was able to try to get the two men's attention herself, Dr. Banner looked over to her with a small smile.

"I assume this is the new recruit?" he asked. Steve practically jumped as he realized he hadn't introduced them yet.

"Oh, yes, sorry," he apologized as he motioned to Tyler. "Dr. Banner, this is Tyler Stark. Tyler, Dr. Banner."

"You can just call me Bruce," Dr. Banner informed as he took his hand out of his pocket and held it out. Tyler took it with a smile.

"Nice to meet you, Bruce," she greeted. As Bruce pulled his hand back Tyler could see the bewilderment in his eyes. He didn't have to ask the question for Tyler to know what it was.

"Stark," he began slowly, "as in Tony Stark?"

Tyler smiled and nodded almost mechanically; it was going to take a while for her to get used to everyone knowing her father personally. Normally when she met new people and they asked who her father was she replied with something to the effect of, "Oh, he's just your average Joe with this or that job and he isn't really all that interesting. Let's change the subject to your dog, he's _so _cute!"

"I'm his daughter," Tyler informed. "Adopted."

Banner looked surprised as he connected the dots. "I see. Didn't really expect him to uh... Y'know. Be a father."

"Yeah, I'm still not sure why he did it," Tyler laughed. "My best guess is that I just challenge him in the way of his pestering skills. It's hard for us to get on each other's nerves."

_For the most part, _Tyler grumbled to herself. Bruce must have noticed that her eyes flashed because he looked a little uncertain that was the case. Thankfully, however, he didn't try to discuss it further.

"Well, it was nice seeing you, Doc," Steve pardoned, "but I still have a few things to show Tyler."

"Of course," Bruce smiled. "See you around."

Tyler waved before she followed Steve back out into the hallway. He turned to the left and followed the walkway until they came back to the room they had first gone to meet Clint and Natasha. Then, he made another left and went straight until they arrived at the elevator.

"Pretty simple," Steve said with a smile as he stopped in front of the door. "Well, that part was at least."

Tyler nodded and replied, "Thank you so much, I would have been so lost without that."

"My pleasure," Steve assured. "Now, Natasha said that there should be some clothing waiting for you in your room, my guess is that it's a uniform of sorts. She asked if you could wear it to dinner."

Tyler nodded, albeit she did grimace a little. She wasn't much one for uniforms but if she had to, she would wear it.

"Alright, so, I'll see you at dinner?" Steve asked. He didn't really need to form it as a question but Tyler just couldn't stand the thought of dashing the hope that she heard in his voice. It was probably just the way he was used to talking with women, but it still reminded Tyler of a teddy bear.

"Yep," Tyler answered with a smile. "Thanks again, Steve."

Steve nodded before he walked back the way he came and left Tyler to herself. She sighed and entered the elevator as the doors slid open, a little relieved that she would have time to rest before she tried to eat dinner with anyone. There seemed to be so many secrets surrounding the people here. First, there was Steve. Apparently there was more to him than a polite, old-fashioned, extremely strong-looking guy. Then there was Clint; why was he so mad at her? What had she done to blow his top off? Next, Bruce. What had Steve meant when he was talking to him about "avoiding stressful situations" and drinking coffee? Did it have something to do with whatever she felt the doctor was hiding behind his dark eyes? Lastly, "the Director." Tyler assumed that he, or she, was the boss of this whole thing. So why hadn't she seen them? Wouldn't it be a little important for her to know who the boss was so she didn't accidentally step on his foot or something?

She sighed once more as she left the elevator and made her way to her room. She was going to become really annoyed if they didn't tell her at least _one _thing. She always hated secrets. Mainly because the only thing Tony seemed able to do was keep secrets.

Upon entering her room and turning her light on, Tyler found that her bed had been made and a black suit that looked almost exactly like Natasha's lay on the sheets. It was skin tight and had several attachments that looked like they could be holders for guns or other weapons. The only difference was that, instead of long sleeves, the material cut off at where she assumed was the middle of her bicep. Like Natasha's, there were S.H.I.E.L.D. symbols on the left and right shoulders that were barely visible.

Beside the suit was a pair of fingerless gloves that looked like they had some padding around the knuckles; she guessed it was so that her knuckles didn't hurt quite as much as when she punched someone with bare fists. She fought back a snicker at the thought as her eyes then traveled to the floor next to the bed where a pair of black combat boots were resting.

Overall, she could tell she was going to obtain many wedgies and itches with this suit. Oh, well. As long as she looked bad ass, right? Seriously, some people just don't understand that comfort should be a _little_ more important than style.

She didn't want to have too many foul thoughts, however, or she wouldn't even put the suit on. She pulled off her vans and tossed them aside somewhere, then took her T-shirt and jeans off. This new get up would be _so _different than what she was used to. She could almost see Pepper having a fit about it. She always tried to get her to dress up a little nicer but Tyler saw no point in it and continued to wear her tomboy-type clothes. Now she was going to wear something that made her look like a public menace. Ha! Take that. Pepper: 0 Tyler: 25

As she picked up the suit she realized that a hood hung on the back of the neck, and there was some cloth on the front of the neck that looked as though it was used to pull up over her nose and act as a mask. How exactly did these people know her so well? It made the whole thing worth it; now she could truly be mysterious and unknowable. You'd think she'd have enough of that considering Tony kept her hidden all of the time, but the idea still seemed pretty epic to her.

She hastily stepped into the suit and was glad to find that it fit perfectly. Did they sneak into her room and look at her clothes to see what size she was or something? Creepers. She pulled on the boots and gloves, perfect fits again, and walked into the bathroom to see what she looked like. Her breath caught in her throat as she turned from side to side. Even though the suit covered most of her skin, she had never felt this exposed before. All of her clothes were normally loose and baggy, so it was weird to see how her body curved. She thought she was embarrassed before, but now? Maybe she should give the point to Pepper…

She pulled the cloth on the neck over her nose and the hood on top of her head and nodded with approval. Now no one would be able to tell who she really was, ha ha! Whoever designed the suit was a genius. A creepy genius, but a genius nonetheless.

She reentered her room and looked at the clock with a sigh; it was only six. What was she supposed to do for two hours before dinner? To answer her question, a quiet knock came from her door. She suddenly felt awkward answering her door with her face all covered so she pulled the hood and cloth off as she walked over to answer it.

When she opened the door her jaw nearly dropped to the floor. Was she hallucinating? She definitely _was not _expecting the person who was standing there. At all.

* * *

_Had to end it off there or the chapter would be 10,000+ words... XD Hasn't been too much action so far but next chapter the story will get a little meatier. Please review to tell me how I did, _PLEASE. _I will give you a cookie if you do. Well, that's all for now, so peace off! (Teehee Tobuscus reference. :3 )_

_-KC_


	5. Miss Swan

Chapter 5: Miss Swan

"Jackie?!" Tyler gasped as she saw her friend behind the door.

"Hey, Tyler!" Jackie smiled wide and pulled Tyler into a hug. They stayed there a moment in each other's arms, not having seen each other for years, before Tyler separated and held Jackie at arm's length as she looked at her.

"I can't believe it's really you," she breathed. Before Jackie could say anything Tyler dropped her hands from her friend's shoulders and motioned inside. "Come in," she offered. Jackie smiled as she stepped forward and Tyler shut the door behind her. They turned to face each other and stood there, neither of them truly believing it was the other they were looking at.

Jackie was exactly how Tyler remembered her. She had long, black hair that was tied back into a pony tail and curled at the end. Her skin was spotless and she had a natural tan that looked absolutely perfect. Her eyes were dark but they shined like no other and her smile reflected her genuine kindness. The only thing different about her was that she wore a blue, skin-tight S.H.I.E.L.D uniform instead of her normal tank-top, short-shorts, and whatever-went-nicely-with-it type of clothes.

Tyler was the first to break the silence.

"What on earth on you doing here?" she asked. "I thought you said you were moving to India for your father's job!"

Jackie nodded sheepishly and tried to find the right words. Tyler saw that this would be quite a story so she walked over to the two armchairs and pulled her bag off the first. She motioned for Jackie to sit and followed suit once her friend was situated.

"That's what I thought too," Jackie finally said, "it's what my father told me before we left because S.H.I.E.L.D. is a secret to the general public and... Let me start from the beginning, sorry." Jackie' smile became a little nervous.

"That's alright," Tyler reassured as she waved it away with her hand. Jackie took in a deep breath before continuing.

"My father was a secret agent here for years, but when he fell in love with my mother and married her, she insisted that they moved near her family since my father's own family wasn't a part of the picture. My mom didn't know it, but the reason why my father was living in Los Angeles was that the station he was assigned to for S.H.I.E.L.D. was currently there and he needed to remain there. His love for my mom, however, was too great for him to be able to ignore her plead.

"He talked to Director Fury who agreed to let him move as long as he continued to report back any trouble he got wind of to the agency. They moved after that to New York where they had me and I met you when we were eight," this brought a smile to both of their faces. Jackie's, however, faded as she continued.

"My mom became ill when we were fifteen, as you probably remember, and the doctor told us it was highly developed stage four cancer. He said there was nothing he could do for her but ease her passing when the pain became too great because the cancer was too far in development to be treated with chemo-therapy. She died a month later and brought us all despair.

"After the funeral my father decided there was no more reason for him to stay away from his job, all he needed was to find a place for me. I refused, however, and demanded he take him with me. It took a while but eventually he gave in and Fury gave his permission that I was allowed to remain here with a tutor for school and I could even take up a job if I wanted. After a couple months of no friends and only school I began to regret my decision to come and more than once I thought about going back to New York and telling you everything; you were- are- my best friend, after all.

"Fury, however, forbid it and told me that if I was in that much need of something to do he would find me something himself. He did, and I immediately fell in love. I was always a sucker for fashion, as you know, and even dreamed of designing my own clothes. My talent, however, was too common for me to get a job on my own so Fury asked if I could design a uniform for his agents to wear. Though I admit they aren't too comfortable or fashionable now, they were _way _worse before I came. I designed uniforms for plenty of other things as well, and Fury was even able to pull some strings so that I could be a designer without having to leave the HQ aside from a few business trips. That's what I continue to do, though I am officially labeled as an agent.

"When I heard that a Tyler Stark was coming on board my heart literally skipped a beat; I didn't think that I would ever see you again, but then there you were on the jet. I couldn't believe my eyes, for two reasons. One was because it actually was you, the other was because," she paused to snicker a bit, "you had to be carried by the Captain."

Tyler's heart immediately sunk as she heard this. She looked around a bit as she tried to gain the motivation to speak.

"I what?" she asked with horror. "Steve told me that... that..."

Jackie burst into laughter. "Your reaction," she stuttered between breaths, "priceless."

Tyler pouted and reached behind her for the pillow resting on the chair. She threw it at Jackie who was barely able to catch it. "Jerk," she accused.

"Guilty as charged," Jackie admitted. "Really, though," she managed after catching her breath, "what was it that Cap told you?"

"That I was able to wake up enough to walk to my room on my own but then collapsed on the bed when I reached it," Tyler murmured, suddenly feeling like the most gullible person in the world.

Jackie smiled. "Don't worry, Cap's always like that. He doesn't want to hurt another person's feelings and when you first meet him you think he's so nice that he could never lie to you. Am I right?"

Tyler nodded solemnly before a thought crossed her mind and her head snapped up. "You keep calling Steve 'Captain' or 'Cap,'" she observed, "Is he the boss of this whole thing? Or, close to the top, considering you were saying something about your father talking to 'Director Fury...'"

Jackie quirked an eyebrow. "He didn't tell you?" she asked. "Well, I don't suppose that's much of a surprise; he's not one to wear his title like a badge. Steve isn't a normal person. In fact, he's sort of a super human... He's uh… Captain America."

Tyler's jaw dropped; she didn't see that one coming. Steve was _the _Captain America. The super soldier, the, the... He _lied _to her. If she was going to be working with him, didn't he think it was a good idea to tell her who he was? Didn't any of them? For all she knew Clint could be the Hulk or something! Or… maybe not… he didn't seem like the type to become a big, green rage monster, as Tony once described to her.

Jackie must have seen her sudden spike and fall in attitude about this because her lips curled up into an amused smirk. Tyler caught this and glared at her.

"What?" she barked. Jackie just shrugged.

"I always find it fun to see people's reactions about these things," she explained. "I have to admit, though, yours wasn't nearly as good as Coulson's..." Her voice trailed away and her features became grim. Tyler looked at her with concern for a moment before deciding that now wasn't the time to speak of whoever Coulson was. Instead, she changed the subject to something Jackie loved.

"Back to the topic of uniform," Tyler said as she leaned forward with her elbows on the coffee table and her chin resting in her hands, "I assume you're the one who designed mine?"

This brought the smile back to Jackie's face, even if it was just a small one.

"Indeed I was," she confirmed. "I actually designed it earlier on a wild thought tangent that you might someday be here, since your father is... well-known by the agency. I never got to actually put it to material until I asked Fury if I could make it for you. It took a little bit of convincing, but he gave in eventually." Jackie's eyes traveled along the suit, "I have to say, you wear it a lot better than I expected."

Tyler smiled and sat up in a sexy pose.

"Do I?" she asked in a seductive voice. They both burst into laughter a moment later, just like they used to, and for once neither of them thought about anything but having fun. When their laughter died down they began updating one another about things that had happened over the three years that they had been away from each other. Their conversation went on until eight, and would have continued if their food wasn't on the line. As soon as they noticed how late it was they hastily made their way over to the kitchen so that they didn't miss dinner.

Tyler was surprised to find that there weren't very many people there, as she had previously expected. Bruce was there talking to Steve, Clint and Natasha were sitting together, and a few other strangers meandered around whom she didn't recognize.

"There's no one here," she whispered to Jackie who nodded.

"Many of the agents have their food delivered or they eat early, and there's a more than one kitchen on each floor so we don't have to try to cram everyone in one room."

"I see," Tyler said as she stepped forward to fill her plate with the food that had been prepared. There was a generous amount of juicy steak, mashed potatoes, gravy, corn, and even some fluffy biscuits and honey. She was surprised that the food was so gourmet since this was a ship and generally the food tended to be more... dry, to say the least.

When her plate was full Tyler turned around and made her way toward Steve and Bruce. She set down her plate on the opposite side of the table from Steve and slid into her seat with a pompous grin. As the Captain looked up his smile pursed into a confused pucker.

"So, _Captain,_" Tyler said with a look that almost mirrored her father's, "what was it you said about me walking to my room without help earlier?"

Steve grimaced and looked down at his plate of food. "You found out," he stated simply. Tyler nodded.

"Mhmm," she hummed as she took a bite of her mashed potatoes without looking away from the abashed Steve. Jackie sat down next to her friend with an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, Cap," she said sympathetically, "I thought she already knew."

Bruce, who had been quiet and watchful until now, chuckled a bit.

"I think he had that one coming to him," he observed. Steve nodded as he pushed his food around with his fork like a child being scolded by his parents.

"Yep, probably did," he agreed. The group, aside from Steve, laughed at this and moved on to another subject.

"So," Banner began, "did you guys know each other before Tyler came?"

Jackie was the first to respond, "Yes, actually. We met when we were eight and have been best friends since."

Bruce nodded and asked, "Was it you who got Tyler into this then?"

Jackie gave a short laugh. "Are you kidding? Fury would have my head if I told anybody about this." She stopped and looked at Tyler quizzically, "I honestly am not sure how she came here."

Tyler took this as her cue and explained, "I was getting bored of being a secret to the world so Tony decided to place me inside a bigger secret so that I wouldn't be restless." She snorted and motioned to the outfit she was wearing. "Not exactly when I had in mind when I asked him for a suit, but it'll do."

Jackie laughed. "Are you saying that my design isn't good enough for you?"

"Oh, no," Tyler said with a smile, "it's a lot better than my old T-shirts. I was just hoping for something a little more... explosive."

Steve raised an eyebrow at this. "You said something about not being like your father?" he asked.

Tyler looked at him with her eyebrows raised on her forehead and her lips curled into a half-smile. "I said for the most part. I never said I was entirely different from him."

"Oh, boy," Banner said with fake nervousness. "Who invited her here again?"

"That would be Director Fury," Natasha joined in the conversation without warning as she pulled up a chair to the table. Clint followed right behind her, food and all. "You wear the suit well, by the way," she complimented.

"Thanks," Tyler said with a smile. Natasha's first comment didn't go over Bruce's head, though.

"Must be pretty talented for Fury to let you here on such short notice," he said, implying something that Tyler had no idea how to respond to. The others at the table turned their eyes on her and the blood rushed to her face under the scrutiny.

"Your guess is as good as mine," she replied hastily, trying to get the topic off of her.

"Oh, yeah," Clint grunted before she could change the subject, "and I'm pretty sure I saw a flying pig the other day."

The group chuckled and Tyler shrugged with exasperation.

"I'm serious, I have no idea how Tony did it," she insisted. "He doesn't tell me anything."

"But," Natasha spoke up, "Fury said Stark showed him a video that you obviously had to be in for him to let you onto the ship." The others nodded in agreement and kept their eyes fixed on Tyler, except for Steve who had been staying out of this particular conversation. Tyler looked to him for help, knowing that she couldn't satisfy the needs of the other S.H.I.E.L.D agents. Steve glanced up at her then turned to the others.

"Guys," he said, "Come on, give the girl some space. You're going to give her a heart attack and it's only her first day."

"If Tony's her father," Clint scoffed, "I highly doubt the attention is really bothering her that much. Right, Miss Swan?"

Tyler's blush was immediately replaced with a sharp glare in the agent's direction.

"Where did you hear that name?" she asked icily. The rest of the people at the table were left to glance from Clint to Tyler with the utmost confusion.

"Well," Clint began, "I've been friends with your father for quite some time now. We've had our share of drinks at his mansion, but I never once heard him talking about you. I continuously raked my memory for anything that might hint to your existence until I remembered Jarvis saying something he apparently wasn't supposed to. I recall him alerting Tony that a Miss Swan had come home," he paused to take a drink from his cup, "and Tony immediately left to 'take care of something.' I honestly wasn't sure if it was you or not, but, it appears I had the right hunch. Do you mind if I ask what the story is behind that name?"

Tyler simply glared at Clint who kept her gaze coolly. His eyes no longer seemed that threatening to her. As a matter of fact, they now caused her to grit her teeth with irritation. Not one person aside from Tony and Pepper knew the meaning behind the nickname; not even Jackie and Tyler told her _everything. _But there truly should be no reason for her to get mad at Clint, he was just curious. She took a moment to cool herself down before she answered.

"There is no story," she managed to say without anger. Clint raised an eyebrow and took another sip of his drink before continuing.

"That why you're scowling right now?" he asked.

"Clint!" Natasha interrupted finally with an incredulous look in his direction.

"What?" he asked as though he weren't doing anything wrong. He really wasn't; he was just asking her about the nickname Tony gave her. There was no reason for Tyler to be angry, but... the way he said it with an implication to, to something that he couldn't possibly know was there caused her anger to heat up. She hated the name. Always did, always will. It wasn't so bad when Tony said it since he was being playful about it, but when Clint said it... He seemed to have a knack for getting his nose into places it didn't belong. She didn't want to begin trying to explain to him how childish he was being right now. Was it that big of a deal that Tony didn't want her to be followed by the paparazzi everywhere? It was the only reason he kept her hidden from even the closest of his friends, aside from Colonel Rhodes. The name Clint overheard was…

"Excuse me," Tyler said quietly as she stood and dumped her dishes in the sink. Normally she wouldn't mind washing them but she needed out of that room. It was too small for so many people looking to her for answers that she just couldn't give away. Figures, huh? She hated secrets but she herself had a huge one that clung to her like a tumor.

She could hear a muffled sound and a grunt as she turned to leave that probably came from Clint being kicked by Natasha again. There was also the scrape of someone's chair, most likely Jackie, but someone stopped her with a quiet no.

"Let her be," was the last thing she heard as she sped down the hallway toward her room.

Why did she get so angry at such a trivial thing? Was it just Clint or... no, no it wasn't. The name wasn't trivial. She was mad at the person who named her in the first place. That horrid, evil… thing. Or maybe, she was mad at Tony for giving her the nickname even though she insisted that he call her Tyler.

Suddenly she didn't care. She didn't care why she was mad; all she knew was that she was mad. She was mad at Tony, at Clint, at... at _him. _And she needed to let it out. She needed... something to hit.

Before she knew it she was stationed just outside the gym Steve had showed her earlier. The gym? Why was she there? Had her feet carried her there by instinct? Not that it mattered; the gym was probably the best place for her to be right about now.

Without caring that she had no water or suitable work out clothes she marched into the empty gym and stopped when she reached the many rows of punching bags. She stared at one for a while before she stepped forward and punched it as hard as she could with her right hand, and it felt _good. _There was nothing like a little violence to let out her jumbled up emotional system.

She punched again with her right and followed up with her left. She paused for a moment then threw another punch. And another, and another. She began to throw her arms with steadily growing power and speed. Soon enough she even hashed out a few kicks. She continued this for... a long time. She had no idea how long, but it felt like a week.

When she could no longer keep herself up she stumbled backwards until her back hit the wall behind her. Or was it a wall? It might've been another piece of equipment. At any rate she slid down the obstacle until she was sitting on the floor, her breath coming in heavy gasps. She stayed there staring at the punching bag until her vision became blurry. It took her a while to realize that tears were streaming out of her eyes. She reached up to wipe them away but they just kept falling without letting up.

It was only the first day and she was already having a break down, that was just great. Dandy, beauteous, whatever other sarcastic comment that was out there. How had she managed to get herself mixed up in this? All Clint did was ask her about the nickname, couldn't she have just answered him? It wasn't the name that was the problem but the man who named her; she didn't have to tell them about that part. Now everyone probably thought she had extreme emotional problems which… she probably did. But still, _why? _Could it have been that she... no, she couldn't blame herself. It was _his _fault, it always was. Why did he have to—she cut off the thought and heaved herself back to her feet. She _would not _let herself think of it, of _him_. Not now, not ever.

She once again stepped forward and began to hash out her anger on the punching bag. She punched and kicked and elbowed the large sack of sand until both her limbs and brain became numb with exhaustion. She tilted forward and steadied herself on the punching bag with her palms and her head leaning on it. She should... she should go to bed...

Instead, she punched the bag one last time and remained standing there. Even though her muscles were shaking she just stayed rooted to the spot. What did it matter, anyway? She had no favor with Clint and he'd probably just make her life hell. The others would ask her about it and once again open her wounds. She was quite content staying here for the rest of the night and maybe even tomorrow. She closed her eyes and buried her conscious into the depths nothingness.

She wasn't sure how long she stood there but she was just about to tip over and fall to the floor. The only thing that stopped her was the gentle hand that found its way to her shoulder.

"Tyler?" a quiet voice asked. It was Steve.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" she mumbled, not moving from her spot or opening her eyes.

"I've had seventy years worth of sleep," he replied softly, "I think I've had enough."

Tyler didn't respond; she just wanted to be left alone. Though it was incredibly selfish of her to be thinking this she honestly didn't find it in her heart to care about anything other than her pain at the moment.

"Come on," Steve urged with a gentle tug on her shoulder. She simply shrugged his hand away and remained clinging to the punching bag. Steve gave a heavy sigh and asked a simple, "Please?"

Tyler took a deep breath before saying, or maybe it was slurring, "Go to bed."

"After you," Steve ordered sternly. When Tyler still didn't move he sighed. "I will drag you to your bed myself if you don't come back with me."

"Try it," Tyler challenged sleepily. Steve huffed.

"Alright, you said it."

Suddenly Tyler's feet were lifted off the ground from under her. She opened her eyes wide with a gasp and instinctively clung to whatever she could to keep balance; it just so happened that the only thing there was Steve's neck. He held her legs in one arm and her shoulder's in another, like how a groom would carry his bride.

"Let go of me," Tyler demanded. Steve shook his head and began walking toward her room.

"No can do, Ma'am," he said with his usual politeness, "I'm sure you understand."

Tyler glared up at him but didn't have the strength to argue.

"Fine," she mumbled as she closed her eyes and rested her head on his chest. This was the second time he'd carried her like that and it was only her first day... How pathetic. Not that she could really do anything about it. At least this time it was too late for anyone to be walking the halls... maybe it would go completely unnoticed.

When they were outside Tyler's room Steve set her feet down gently on the ground and steadied her as she swayed.

"Careful," he cautioned. "Are you alright from here?"

Tyler looked up at him with half-open eyes and nodded. He searched her face for a moment but took a step back as she turned and fumbled with the door knob. He was just about to open the door for her when it opened unexpectedly and she almost fell forward. She cursed under her breath but was able to catch herself.

"You sure you're alright?" Steve asked again, warily watching to make sure she didn't fall forward a second time. Tyler threw a sharp glare over her shoulder at him.

"I'm fine," she insisted. He nodded and slowly turned to leave, but stopped as Tyler spoke again. "And Steve," she said suddenly. He halted and turned to her.

"Yes?"

Tyler paused before finishing with a simple, "Thanks."

Steve smiled and nodded. "My pleasure, Miss," he said softly before Tyler fully entered her room and closed the door behind her.

She wasn't sure exactly how she did it but she was able to shrug off the suit Jackie had given her and change into a comfortable pair of PJ's. After that she fell face first onto her bed and let her exhaustion overtake her.

* * *

The night air was cool and crisp, but felt heavier with stink than any air on Asgard. It almost made him want to hurl when he was on the ground, but when he was up here it was surprisingly light and refreshing. The only good thing about the giant skyscrapers other than giving him more things to destroy was that they lifted him out of the jumble of Midguardians and relieved his senses of their stench.

It hadn't yet been a year since his first attack on the city and the effects were still visible. The remnants of the Chitauri bodies were the first to go, probably dumped in an ocean or cremated, but the impressions they left were still prevalent. Streets were destroyed, bridges cut in half, buildings crumpled to the ground. Tirelessly the Midguardians worked, slaved even, over their weak edifices that made them feel so safe and secure. If they were destroyed so easily the first time, were they not going to be just as easily destroyed when he returned? The Midguardians truly were a pitiful species, yet there were so many of them.

Out of all of the thousands of women in this city alone, why could he not find just _one _that would accept the spell he had crafted? Maybe he simply needed to change it so that it would be more compatible with the dull creatures. But to belittle his talent to such a low level… no, he couldn't. He would change the spell a little, yes, but unless he could find someone fit to give its gifts to then he would scrap the idea and move on with his plan. Having a Trojan horse wasn't his top priority at the moment; Heimdall could find him at any point in time.

As a matter of fact, he was surprised that he hadn't been found yet. Wouldn't Heimdall have noticed that Loki was still residing on Midguard? Then again, the all-seeing sentry could not be asked to see that which he was not looking for, and currently Loki was in Thor's possession. Allegedly.

Yes, Loki would keep up his stealth while he continued searching for an acceptable host for his magic. It could take months, but he was prepared to wait as long as he needed. After all, the bulk of the attack rested mostly on the preparation.

He turned from the city below him and disappeared to his warehouse. With luck, he would find what he needed and be able to catch the petty _Avengers _completely off-guard, and the ending would be so much sweeter than last time. For him, anyway. His lips curled up in a smile as he thought of the horror on their faces when he caused even more destruction.

_That _would show them. They would all finally feel what he had felt, see what he had seen. Pain, despair, darkness. He relished the thought of bringing the petty warriors to their knees before him. The power he would feel…

As he rematerialized in the warehouse he took a deep breath and smiled. _The end is near, Midguardians, _he thought. _Prepare yourselves._

* * *

_Hooray for character development! More next chapter, along with some angst and lots of sweat(from training). Thank you lots to those who have reviewed and to those who haven't... *^* I know you're reading this. I will find you. (Now's the part where you click the box that says review! :D ) Well, even if you don't, thanks for reading. :)  
_

_-KC_


	6. Father-Daughter

Chapter 6: Father-Daughter

Tyler glared at her alarm clock as she lay on her stomach in bed. Figures she would wake up a whole hour before breakfast. Sure, she took a while to get ready, but it didn't take her _that _long. What happened to the fact that she was exhausted from last night? Shouldn't she be waking up an hour _after _breakfast? Or at most ten minutes beforehand; she didn't really want to be late after all that happened yesterday. Avoiding more embarrassment was probably key in getting off Clint's bad side.

She wasn't looking forward to eating with the agent after that whole ordeal, mostly because she honestly had no idea what she should do or say. Should she pretend like nothing happened? Should she completely ignore him? Should she confront him? Whatever she did, for some reason she knew that the tension in between them would only grow unless one of them tried to apologize… Unfortunately, she was raised by Tony Stark. There was no way in all of hell that she would be the one to do it.

With a huge sigh as she watched the minutes slowly passing by on the clock, she remained slumped in her pillow. She wasn't sure she like the fact that time was moving slow or annoyed by it because she wanted to get the first part of the day over with. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard to deal with Clint if they were just focused on training. She even contemplated staying in bed until there was no more breakfast to be served so that she didn't have to try to make conversation with anyone. However, she knew if she didn't get up someone might come to get her… Finally, she hefted herself into a sitting position and stretched. That was a good waste of fifteen minutes.

She swiveled so that her legs hung over the side of the bed and then jumped off with as much spring as she could muster. No matter what happened, she had to go out there in a good mood or she'd probably try to rip Clint's face off even if he wasn't doing anything. She walked with a bounce in her step as she grabbed her suit and made her way to the bathroom.

Once she was under a warm stream of water she closed her eyes and soaked up the heat with gratitude. She wasn't exactly sure how there seemed to be an unending supply of water that _wasn't _from the ocean, but she was glad that S.H.I.E.L.D. had the technology to pull it off. She wasn't sure what she would do if she didn't have the ability to shower.

When she had finally finished her shower she changed, blow dried her hair, brushed her teeth, etcetera. Afterwards she still had ten minutes and figured she might as well make good use of her time. Often when something (Tony) was really bothering her she found that it helped her to calm down when she did a handstand. So that's what she did.

She walked up to an empty part of the wall next to her bed, placed her hands on the floor, and kicked her feet over her head until they rested on the wall. She had no idea why she took up this habit but for some reason when she stood on her hands she felt like she was able to think a lot more clearly than if she just sat down on her bed or something.

There was one instance where Tony had walked in on her as she was doing this after one of his "father rants" and his reaction was something to the effect of, "Did I raise a monkey? Because I was pretty sure I had chosen a human at the adoption center…" and then he walked out. That was when she first learned that standing on your hands for long periods of time wasn't exactly socially acceptable. She had no idea why she thought it was fine in the first place but it was almost like a ritual that she just couldn't avoid. It at least gave her muscles a lot more strength than if she were eating popcorn and staring at a TV screen, which was often what Tony did after she or Pepper got mad at him. So she'd rather do this.

Once her head was clear of all the anger and frustration she had been feeling from the night before she flipped her feet back over her head and stood up. After a quick glance at the clock she decided that she might as well make her way over to the mess hall, it would be served in a mere five minutes. She took a deep breath, just in case the effects of the hand stand weren't enough, before she headed out.

The halls had already become as busy as they were yesterday when Tyler was taking the tour with Steve and she often had to sidestep agents who took no heed to the fact that they weren't the only ones on the giant airship. By the time she reached the mess hall everyone was there: Jackie, Natasha, Bruce, Steve, and unfortunately, Clint. When she walked inside the conversations they were having immediately ceased and they looked up at her. Some, well, everyone except Clint, gazed at her with sympathy that made her uneasy. Clint just stared. She had no idea what emotion was hidden behind his blank features.

Her own features hardened and she walked right past them to get her food. Steve was the first to realize that staring her down wasn't going to help anything, so he turned back to Bruce and continued their previous conversation. Jackie then turned to Natasha and once again began speaking to her. Tyler silently let out a breath she didn't know she was holding as she dished some scrambled eggs onto her plate. Why did people think staring was going to help in the first place?

Steve and Bruce were again sitting by each other, Clint positioned with a little space in between him and the doc, with Jackie and Natasha seated across from them. Tyler was glad there was room enough for her to slide into the bench next to Jackie and directly across from Steve. They were the only two people she felt didn't think of her as a complete idiot. Everyone said their greetings, sans you-know-who, and went back to their conversations. Tyler listened but didn't bother joining in, as they were all talking about things that didn't really interest her.

Bruce was busy trying to explain something called anti-electron collisions to Steve who couldn't have looked more lost if he was blindfolded, spun around a few times, and then dropped off in Antarctica. Natasha and Clint seemed to be going back and forth about the events that happened in Budapest, wherever that was, and Jackie was doing her best not to slap duct tape onto their mouths as she was encouraging them to drop the subject. From what it sounded like, Budapest was a very common topic of interest between the two.

After she was halfway through her meal, Tyler noticed that the three agents who were going to train her weren't wearing their normal getup. Steve, instead of wearing his usual jacket and jeans, wore sweat pants and a white T-shirt. Clint and Natasha had dropped the all black uniforms they had been wearing previously and had replaced them with pretty much the same thing as Steve, except Natasha wore a tank top and tights. Everyone seemed to be ready to go for a run or something but there Tyler was, dressed in the uniform she thought was necessary. How did she keep doing this whole embarrassment thing to herself?

With a sigh, Tyler stopped this thinking and ate quickly since she wasn't joining in on the conversations going on around her. She finished before everyone else and stood to deal with her dishes. Once she had placed her plate and utensils in the designated "dirty dish buckets", she turned to find Clint standing behind her with his own dishes. She held his gaze for a moment before she scooted to the side to let him through to the sink, but he didn't move. Instead, his eyes remained fixed on her and he spoke.

"Since we're the first ones done, I'll take you down to the gym to assess your self defense skills so that we have a bit of a head start on the day," he informed her. Tyler was a bit surprised that there was no ice in his voice and took a moment before she nodded in response. Clint stepped forward to put his dishes away, but stopped.

"Actually," he looked at her. "You should probably change into some workout clothes; they're a bit more comfortable and a lot easier to clean. Meet me down at the gym when you're done."

Tyler nodded again and turned on her heel. Once she was outside of the kitchen she practically ran down the hall to her room. Inside, she jumped out of her suit and quickly grabbed a pair of workout clothes. For some reason she felt the need to rush since Clint was the one who told her to change. Perhaps this whole fire-and-ice relationship they seemed to have going on would be for the better; she certainly felt more motivated to do what he asked than when other people told her to do something.

It was only a few minutes before she was in her workout clothes and had pulled her thick hair into a ponytail. She made her way to the gym with haste and arrived just as Clint asked two people in an elevated boxing ring to step aside. They didn't hesitate, and Tyler wondered just how high up on the "agent ranking scale" Clint was. Pushing that to the back of her mind, she stepped up to her trainer who was leaning with his hands on the ropes around the ring. His back was turned to her.

"That was fast," he observed without turning around. Tyler should have been taken aback by his ability to sense her when she hadn't made a sound, except he could probably tell if a fly entered the room he was in no matter how loud the atmosphere around him was.

"I figured that dragging my feet wasn't going to help us," Tyler responded. Clint nodded and stayed where he was for a moment longer before he hoisted himself into the ring and motioned for Tyler to follow. Once Tyler was inside, Clint turned to her.

"I know one good thing about you now," he said with what almost sounded to be surprise, "but don't expect me to cut you any slack. I need to know how to test you exactly. How many classes have you taken and for how long?"

Tyler bit her lip; she took the classes such a long time ago that she wasn't sure. She could make a guess, though…

"I took three or four," she estimated, "and they lasted about an hour each."

Clint raised an eyebrow, obviously not satisfied with this. Tyler knew it wasn't much, but after the first few classes Tony said that he wasn't going to bother wasting his money anymore, and she wasn't sure if he actually thought she was _that _horrible or he thought that the classes were stupid. In any case, she only had the small amount of experience because she couldn't take the classes when Tony didn't pay the money. If she got beat up, it was his fault.

"Well, that's not much to work on," Clint grumbled, pulling Tyler out of her thoughts. She shrugged.

"It's something, right?"

Clint walked in a small circle with his head pointed to the ceiling and took a deep breath.

"Something," he mumbled before he faced her. "Alright, we'll start simple. I'll show you a move and you try to use it on me, okay? And don't worry about hitting me, even if you went full force you wouldn't be able to do it."

Tyler refrained from rolling her eyes or making some off-hand comment and settled with a small nod toward her trainer.

Clint widened his feet and put his fists up into a battle-ready position and Tyler mirrored the stance. At least she remembered that much from her classes. When Clint saw that her fighting stance was decent he quickly snapped his right fist forward, his whole body twisting to enforce the blow so that it wasn't just his arm strength he was punching with. The second after his arm had fully extended he quickly pulled it back and assumed his original position.

That had been one of the first moves Tyler had been taught, so she easily stepped forward and delivered a hard blow in Clint's direction. The agent caught her fist and held her arm there with intense focus in his eyes.

"You're not using your whole body," he informed and pushed her left shoulder back until her upper body was tilted to the left. He then let go of her arm and adjusted her feet so that her weight was centered on her back leg, which was her right. He stood up straight and tapped her right thigh.

"Swivel with this leg," he continued, "and use your other for steady balance. Next time when you punch you need to make sure that you punch with your whole body, not just your arm." He took a step back and motioned toward himself with his hand. "Again."

Tyler nodded and with hardly a pause she struck again. Still, Clint easily caught her fist. He looked at her end position and was a little surprised to see that she had fixed every mistake she had made before. He let go of her and nodded.

"Good. Now try with your left."

The training went on like this for the rest of the morning and Tyler's progress was quick and steady. Once she was told of any mistakes she made by Clint she would fix them and Clint would have her move onto the next item on his agenda.

At one point in the early part of the training Steve and Natasha had walked in to see if they could help at all but soon realized that they would only be getting in the way. So instead of doing nothing they wandered off somewhere. They returned a while later to do their own training.

Lunch soon came and by that time Tyler was exhausted. She knew Natasha had said they would try to have more breaks than just lunch but the thought never really occurred to her until a beaming Jackie entered the gym with four sandwiches in hand.

"I'm surprised you didn't try to take at least a few five minute breathers," she said to no one in particular as she handed out the goods. Clint just rolled his eyes and dug into his sandwich while Natasha and Steve ate theirs with more reserve. Tyler looked at Jackie with a quirked eyebrow as she took the plain turkey sandwich that was handed to her. (As Jackie had told the cooks, Tyler couldn't stand vegetables or condiments on her sandwiches.)

"And I never thought I'd see you passing out sandwiches to sweaty people in a gym who you aren't trying to hook up with," Tyler countered. Jackie's mouth dropped open at this.

"I take offense to that," she said. Tyler just shrugged and took a bite of her sandwich as she sat down next to Clint at the edge of the boxing ring with her feet dangling over the side. Steve and Natasha sat on a few benches that were in the middle of an open space of floor near the door. Jackie huffed and rolled her eyes.

"Well, don't expect me to take time out of my day to give you food anymore," she warned as she turned and walked back toward the door. Tyler stuck her tongue out at her friend and didn't bother to reply. A few minutes after Jackie had walked out, Clint looked over to Tyler.

"You learn fast," he commented.

Tyler glanced at him with a little suspicion at how much he had changed his attitude toward her and waited to finish her bite before she nodded and replied with a small, "Thanks." After which she continued to stare at the floor.

"I mean, like, really fast," he continued without taking his eyes off of her. "I have never once seen anyone learn and master those moves so quickly."

Tyler didn't look up. "Your point?"

Clint shrugged and looked into his sandwich as he opened his mouth for another bite.

"I just figured that your quick learning had something to do with the video Tony showed Fury, that's all," he explained after he had swallowed.

Tyler's brow furrowed and she made eye contact with the agent, now with even more suspicion.

"What video?" she asked after a few moments of studying him.

"I thought you could tell me," he said without breaking the eye contact. Tyler nodded slowly and looked away. At least Clint wasn't lying when he said that…

"Hey, slow pokes," a voice called from the doorway of the gym. It was Natasha. "I'm going to work on the investigation," she informed before she turned and walked out. Clint hurriedly stuffed his last few bites of sandwich into his mouth and took off after Natasha. He clapped a hand on Steve's back as he passed by.

"Your turn, Cap," he said with a mouthful of food and jogged out of the gym. Steve looked after him with a few shakes of his head before he finished up the last part of his sandwich, Tyler not too far behind. When they were both done, Steve motioned toward the weights.

"Shall we?" he asked. Tyler nodded and hopped off of the ring. She walked with Steve to the weights and looked around at all of the equipment. Tony had a lot of work out supplies in his gym, but not quite this much. She didn't even know what some of the things were.

"Alright," Steve stopped in the middle of the floor and looked around to take note of any exercises he thought of that could help. "Have you done any strength training in the past?"

Tyler nodded. "I lift everyday, but not that much. I normally keep it to five or eight pounds because I haven't really needed monstrous strength in the past."

Steve nodded and quickly looked her over. "That's probably a good thing," he mused. "The way your body structure is, you'll benefit with more speed and agility than strength. Too much bulk could hinder that ability, so it's good to keep your weights light, but to do a lot of reps. Although I recommend trying tens."

Tyler watched as Steve walked over to a barbell and put a five pound weight on either side. He then walked over to another and placed several forty-five pound weights on either side. She was guessing that she was supposed to stick with the five pounders… After this Steve turned to her and motioned to the barbell she was to use.

"We'll do four reps of ten squats, but first I need to see your technique," he said. Tyler stepped forward and bent so that her shoulders were under the bar and then grabbed the bar with both hands. She lifted until she was standing straight and then moved her feet so that they were shoulder width apart. She went down into a squat and waited as Steve checked to make sure she had the correct technique.

With a nod of approval he left her to do her reps and moved to do his own. When they were both done they moved onto another set that would take much longer. After a while, Tyler became tired of the silence and turned to the Captain as she was lifting a couple of ten pound dumbbells (she decided eight pounds really wasn't enough when she couldn't feel any strain).

"So Steve," she began tentatively, "what is that investigation everyone keeps talking about?"

Steve looked over to her and stopped mid-lift. He held her stare for a moment before he focused on the wall in front of him and continued lifting.

"It's just an investigation on a couple of murders that have been taking place in New York," he informed impassively. Tyler scoffed. There was no such thing as "just a couple of murders."

"How many?" she asked. Steve glanced at her but continued to lift quietly. Unwilling to give up, Tyler made a proposition. "Alright, I'll say a number and you tell me if I'm close or not. Okay?"

Steve still didn't respond, but she continued anyway.

"Two," she guessed. No reaction. "Okay, more than that. Four?"

This time she saw a small flicker behind Steve's guarded eyes, but it wasn't large enough for Tyler to say that she was right.

"Five," she said and finally she could see a flicker of alarm. It was only there for a split second, but it was there nonetheless. "I'm right, aren't I?" she asked rhetorically. "Alright, so what's the MO?"

This time Steve stopped lifting altogether and sat up with a hard look in Tyler's direction.

"Tyler," he said with calm control that reminded Tyler of Steve's military background, "I know you're curious, as most kids are when they're your age, but this isn't something we should be discussing right now. Serial killings aren't child's play, real people have been murdered."

Despite the discipline Steve was trying to show Tyler, she smiled.

"So it's been confirmed that there's been only one killer," she stated more as a fact than a question. Steve sighed and rolled his eyes.

"You really are Tony Stark's daughter, you know that?" he asked with exasperation. Tyler shrugged.

"I try," she responded haughtily. Steve sniffed and stood.

"That concerns me," he mumbled. Suddenly, there it was. That silent comparison between father and daughter. That last statement wasn't directed toward her, it was meant for Tony. Steve had said that he and Tony didn't always get along; this only proved what Tyler already knew.

"Hey," Tyler said as she put her weights on the floor. "I get it. Figuring out who a murderer is isn't a game. I only wanted to help."

Steve looked at her and his eyes softened a little. Sure, she was a lot like Tony, but she thankfully had more self control and was a lot less irritating.

"I know," he replied quietly, "but I don't think you can help with this particular case. Maybe next time." He walked by her and placed a hand on her head before continuing on to exit.

"Hey, where are you going?" Tyler asked as she twisted around to keep her eyes on him.

"We've been lifting for a long time, too much can be more harmful than helpful," he responded without stopping. "When you're done with your reps go and find Natasha. She should be in the room I first took you to."

Tyler watched him go before turning back to her weights with a slight frown. What were assassins doing looking at murders, of all things? Weren't they the ones supposed to be doing the killing? Unless of course, these murders somehow threatened the agency…

When she was done with her last rep Tyler stood and stretched out her arms with a grimace. She had been lifting weights often recently, yes, but never for so long at a time. She normally went for about a half hour, but this time it took almost a full hour. She had the sinking feeling that in the morning she would be in a whole lot of pain so she continued to stretch to try and relieve as much of the tightness in her muscles as possible. Once she was done she made her way to the room she had first gone to with Steve.

She traveled through the halls quickly so as not to keep Natasha waiting and arrived in a little over a minute. When she walked through the automatic doors, however, she did not see who she was expecting. Instead of Natasha looking at some file, she saw two individuals she had not been introduced to yet.

One was a woman with dark hair pinned up in a pristine bun who wore a blue S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform. She stood with her feet shoulder width apart and her hands clasped firmly behind her back as she talked with a large man in a black trench coat. Tyler was quick to notice that the man had a menacing eye patch and a scowl that might scare off even Tony.

When the two noticed her presence the conversation immediately stopped and they both looked at her with scrutiny. Tyler realized they were looking for an explanation as to why she had interrupted them and she quickly tried to explain herself.

"Uh, hi," she began stupidly, "I'm sorry I was just looking for Natasha Romanoff. I didn't mean to interrupt-"

She was cut off by the woman who instinctively moved her hand to the gun she had holstered on her hip and took a step toward Tyler.

"Who are you?" she demanded. Tyler froze with both surprise and fear. She knew that this was an aircraft carrier filled with assassins and there would undoubtedly be many agents with weapons, but she was never actually threatened with one. Thankfully, the man with the eye patch- from now on to be known as One-Eye in Tyler's mind- answered for her.

"Calm down, Agent Hill," One-Eye warned, "she's a guest."

For some reason, even though he was defending Tyler, she didn't feel much comforted by his words. He seemed like the type to hate Tony and ergo would hate her even though he'd never actually met her. He also seemed like the type to hate everyone whom he couldn't be sure to put his faith in. Double hate for Tyler, yay!

The woman hesitated, but let her arm fall naturally to her side. The tension in her shoulders, however, was not relieved. Once that was settled, One-Eye turned to Tyler.

"Tyler Stark, I presume," he stated. Even though it wasn't a question Tyler felt the need to nod an affirmative. Hill's brow slightly furrowed at this and she turned to her boss.

"Stark, Sir?" she questioned. One-Eye glanced at her.

"I'll bring you up to date later," he informed. "For now, Agent Hill, this is Tyler Stark: a new recruit. Tyler, Agent Maria Hill."

Tyler smiled and waved a friendly "hi" but Maria simply gave her a stiff nod. So far she seemed like a _wonderful _person to be with. At least Clint didn't seem so stuck-up. After this Tyler turned back to One-Eye. Before she could ask the question that was formed in her mind, however, he continued to speak.

"I assume Agents Barton and Romanoff have filled you in on the way things work around here, so I expect you to keep your nose where it belongs and stay out of trouble. If at any time both Clint and Natasha are gone you need to stay with Steve Rogers. If he is also absent from the premises then Maria will be your guardian. Is that clear?"

Tyler's jaw set; she really didn't like how this guy thought he was so high-and-mighty. She was eighteen and legally allowed to make her own decisions in terms of what she did and where she went; she was no longer required to have a guardian. Nonetheless she nodded her understanding of the rules.

"Good," One-Eye grunted and then turned to Maria. "Hill, I leave you to it."

With that, he turned and walked out of the room with a scowl plastered to his face. Just before he exited the room he stopped and decided to relay one last thing.

"And under no circumstances are you to try anything that Mr. Stark would do."

And then, he turned and left. Tyler watched him with a glare. Tony this, Tony that. Whenwould people understand that she's not her father?

"Who was that?" she asked to no one in particular. She pretty much ignored the fact that Maria was there.

"Director Fury," Maria said bluntly, oblivious to the way Tyler impassively spoke to the air, not to Maria herself. Tyler turned to her and studied her for a moment before nodding.

"The title doesn't really have a meaning to me," she informed the agent who just stared at her. Tyler stared back and waited for the agent to elaborate.

"He's the boss," she finally said, not wanting to waste her time with a child's tactics, "Head of S.H.I.E.L.D. You'd take care to listen to him."

Tyler tilted her head to the side and quirked an eyebrow.

"Are you implying that you think I'm going to ignore him?" she questioned with a little irritation in her voice. She could predict the answer before it came out. _Why _must Tony give himself such a bad name around this place?

"If your last name means anything, then yes," Maria confirmed without heed to the fact that Tyler _wasn't_ a forty-five year old billionaire who had the tendency to hack into every computer he could find. Tyler huffed; she was beginning to become _really _annoyed by how people were treating her when they heard her name. Maria had the worst reaction aside from "Director Fury" so she currently didn't like her. Nor did she like the Director.

Without bothering to say anything to the agent in front of her, Tyler turned on her heel and began walking out the door. As she guessed, Maria began walking after her.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"To find my other babysitters," Tyler remarked begrudgingly. That's basically what they were in Fury's eyes since he didn't understand the meaning of being eighteen and not having to be watched over like a child. She had a feeling he needed to keep an eye on Tony due to his… well, his habit of being him, but she was in no way her father. Not that it seemed to matter to anyone else.

Maria stopped and contemplated following the teen, but knew that Natasha was indeed onboard, so she didn't have to watch over her. She turned and went back to her official duties.

The first place Tyler could think of to look for Natasha was in the mess hall, so she made her way there with haste. She hoped she didn't run into Director Fury on the way, as he would probably blow his top off if he found out she wasn't with another agent. Thankfully he was nowhere to be found in the hallway Tyler traveled and she wasn't stopped. She found when she reached the dining area, however, that no one was at that point hungry. So she was back to square one. Really, where could three agents disappear to on a giant aircraft carrier that could hold hundreds of airplanes, guns, and people? Stupid question.

With a sigh, Tyler once again turned around and collided with Bruce who had just entered the kitchen with an empty mug in hand. The ceramic mug slipped from his grip and shattered as it hit the floor.

"Oh, I am so sorry!" Tyler exclaimed and immediately dropped to her knees to pick up the shards of the broken mug.

"No, i-it's alright," Bruce insisted as he, too, began cleaning up the pieces.

Tyler shook her head and continued.

"I've got it, really," she persisted. Eventually their hands met as they tried to pick up the same piece. Tyler pulled her hand back and laughed a bit awkwardly as Bruce continued to pick it up. Didn't this kind of thing happen in cheesy romance movies? Creepy. Way creepy. No offense to the doc but he was old enough to be her father; that thought was messed up. Changing thought process.

"Sorry," Tyler mumbled apologetically and stood. Bruce stood as well and smiled.

"Its fine, I just didn't anticipate that you would turn around so quickly," he reassured honestly.

Tyler smiled back before she turned to throw the pieces of the mug in the trash, Banner right behind. She was glad that there was at least one person on the ship who wasn't pushy. She rather liked the quiet scientist, even though she hadn't been able to talk with him much.

Tyler stood next to one of the tables and Banner moved away from the trashcan to stand across from her. He looked at the ground with a small smile on his face and didn't move. Tyler had no intentions of doing so either considering she really had no place to go at the current moment.

"You're lost, aren't you?" Banner finally asked. Tyler smiled and gave a short laugh.

"More like my babysitters are lost," she replied half-heartedly. "Do you happen to know where Natasha is?"

Banner shook his head, all the while keeping his head pointed to look at the floor. "No, sorry, I've been in my lab all day and they don't come around too often."

"Oh, that's fine, I was just wondering. I don't really want to be training, considering I've been doing that nonstop for the past eight hours."

Banner began to fiddle with his hands in front of him a bit before he looked up at her with what seemed like bashful puppy-dog eyes.

"Is it because of yesterday?" he asked quietly.

Innocent question, completely innocent. Kind of cutely innocent. Now Tyler was having a hard time deciding whether it was Steve or Bruce who was the teddy bear. Too hard to tell! Maybe she would stick with Steve being the teddy bear and Bruce would become the cute puppy… Wait, what the heck was she thinking? That was creepier than the romance thought from earlier. What was Tyler turning into? Some freaky old cat lady who classifies people as animals?

Tyler smiled ruefully and shook her head.

"No, it doesn't have anything to do with that," she admitted truthfully. It wasn't a lie; she _really _didn't feel like training anymore that day. Besides, she had already gotten the part with Clint done and over with. She didn't really have any more worries of controlling her… issues.

Banner nodded but kept a wary eye on her. Normally he wasn't good at reading people, but for some reason he didn't think she was bothered by what happened as much as she should be. He could see when people were hiding things because he himself had such a large secret to keep. What had she buried so deep in her mind that she would work herself into exhaustion just to forget about it?

Before Bruce could say anything more, the doors to the mess hall slid open.

"There you are," Natasha said to Tyler as she entered. "I was looking for you. Try not to disappear again, kay? Fury wasn't much of a happy camper when he found me."

Tyler did her best not to roll her eyes. She was pretty sure it was Natasha who had disappeared, but, hey. Who was keeping track?

Tyler gave Bruce one last smile before heading out with Natasha to work on improving her flexibility. She hadn't had much trouble with the previous training she was doing but this time she knew that it wouldn't go well. She could bend just about as much as a dried up piece of wood in a desert.

At one point while Natasha was trying to show Tyler a yoga move that was supposed to stretch the legs and lower back, she stopped and said bluntly, "You're going to take a long time to be able to touch your toes, aren't you?"

Yes, yes she was. Tyler could do plenty of physical things, but stretching and bending in weird directions was certainly not one of them. Needles to say, the last part of the training went by really slow and Tyler more than once thought she tore her muscles into several different pieces as she tried to do what Natasha said. It was a good bonding experience, though. The two of them talked and laughed as they stretched, which caused the session to last a lot longer than expected. It lasted two hours and only stopped because they realized dinner was just about to begin. They packed up and quickly made their way to the mess hall.

They grabbed their food and habitually sat in their normal grouping order. During the meal they buzzed happily about the events of the day and, thankfully, no one tried to get Tyler to say anything about last night. She even thought that Clint had completely dropped it as well due to the fact somehow they were talking to each other non stop as though they had known each other for years.

This continued to the end of the meal in which everyone took care of their dishes and went their own ways, except for Natasha and Tyler who decided they had done enough stretching. Instead, they decided to hang out in the lounge on that floor to talk. At first it was just the two girls, but then Clint and Steve walked in with nothing to do on their hands. Soon even antisocial Banner walked in. They talked for about a half hour before Jackie got wind that they weren't doing anything and showed up with a large bowl of popcorn and a small pile of movies for them to watch. She said movie watching was something they regularly did at the end of the day, and since it was Tyler's first time she should pick what movie to watch.

The five movies Jackie had brought covered a wide range of genres. There was _The Pact_, an incredibly scary horror film that Tyler was sure would get one of the agents to shoot the TV screen on accident, _Austin Powers, _a comedy that was so stupid Tyler could hardly believe her friend offered to watch it, _The Wizard of Oz, _which Tyler was pretty sure was only chosen because Steve was there, _Fast and Furious 4, _that Tyler thought was hopeless in terms of a good story line, _Star Wars IV_ which, admittedly, Tyler would never get tired of, and _Sherlock Holmes _in which the main character looked, very creepily, like her father. She didn't need to think much on it…

"Star Wars," she said almost immediately. Jackie smiled knowingly and briefly wondered whether she should have even bothered asking. She slipped the movie into the DVD player and together the group watched the classic with smiles on their faces. Yes, Steve knew about Star Wars. Barely.

When the movie was over everyone could hardly contain their yawns, and Jackie had to shoo them all to bed because they still tried to hold up conversations. Tyler walked with Steve since their rooms were right next to each other and was quite proud that she wasn't being carried. She planned to keep this streak going.

After saying a tired good night to the Captain, Tyler slowly shuffled her way into bed. Just the same as the night before, she wasn't sure how exactly she did it but she was able to change into her pj's before she collapsed on her bed and hoped that the next day wouldn't come too quickly or she'd be too tired to get up. One could only hope.

* * *

_Phew, that's a long chapter. Almost 7,000 words. O_o Hope you like fluff because that's pretty much what this chapter was. :P Anywho, thank y'all for reading, now if you would kindly click the review box to say that you love me. X3 Jk. Don't say that unless you mean it. But still review please! :D  
_

_-KC_


	7. What Am I?

Chapter 7: What Am I?

Week five, day thirty-six of training, exactly the same as all the rest: get up, eat, train with Clint then Steve then Natasha, eat, watch a movie, and go to bed. It didn't bother Tyler at all, doing the same routine over and over, but what really made it hard for her was the fact that Tony, who had previously promised to be constantly in contact with her, hadn't even sent her a text in the past two weeks. She was never around her phone so she wouldn't get it until late anyway, but the least he could do was say hi. Call once, send her an e-mail. Heck, she would be fine if he called Fury and told him to tell her that he said hi. _Something._

But, no. She trained tirelessly everyday without a break and never once did her father let her know he was there to encourage her to keep going. She could, of course, contact him herself, but that would completely defeat the purpose. He was the one who was supposed to be making an effort, not her. Currently it seemed to her that Tony was just tired of taking care of her after all these years and decided that she would be better off in an aircraft carrier, that she found out could somehow fly, with a bunch of highly trained assassins. What a _wonderful _influence they all were.

She hated Fury and Fury completely ignored her; that made her real comfortable being there on his ship. She was impassive to Maria, but the agent always made it a point to make sure she wasn't getting into anything she wasn't supposed to. Not that she could anyway, the security there was impossible to breach. Steve and Bruce were both nice, which was a good thing, but they seemed incredibly out of place and Tyler had begun to wonder just what Fury threatened them with or offered them to keep them there. It was obvious neither of them truly wanted to be onboard. Natasha was like the older sister she never had, but she intimidated her to no end. Honestly Tyler sometimes had to take a couple steps away from the assassin in fear that she might be killed just standing in her presence. Jackie was Jackie, always kind and bubbly and equally as out of place as Steve and Bruce, but she still had her fair share of misjudgments as well. Like when she tried to get Tyler to break into a classified room with her to see what was being kept in it. Thankfully Tyler wasn't that stupid. Then there was Clint who was currently in the middle of teaching her how to snap someone's neck. He was the _best_ influence by _far_ and Tyler was fairly certain that if Tony really knew what she was learning he'd threaten to destroy the aircraft carrier with nukes that he didn't have, but could probably make.

Even with all of those incredibly dangerous people, and there were plenty more to be sure, Tony didn't seem to care at all how she was doing. Not one little teensy bit. Nope. Why should he? He was a famous billionaire with too much to do and not enough time to do it, after all. Why should he bother spending five seconds out of his day to tell his daughter hi? Then again, she wasn't really his daughter. Maybe that was it.

This topic was what made Tyler late that morning for breakfast. She dragged her feet and had a scowl throughout her whole morning routine. The only reason her foul attitude disappeared from her features when she exited her room was because she didn't want people to ask unnecessary questions.

She made it through breakfast, barely able to pass off her lateness as sleeping through her alarm, but it seemed training wouldn't quite go that way. Clint didn't even finish telling her how to snap a person's neck when he broke off mid-sentence to ask what was wrong with her. Tyler stared at him with a cocked eyebrow.

"What do you mean?" she asked, trying to write the question off as insignificant.

"I meant what I said," he replied bluntly. "What. Is. Wrong. With. You?"

"Nothing," Tyler scoffed. Clint didn't look at all convinced.

"Is it about the name thing from earlier?" he asked. He looked worried that this was the case.

Tyler's brow furrowed. What name thi—Oh. That. She hadn't thought about it since it happened. It was absurd that Clint would even think that Tyler was bothered by that if it happened more than a month ago.

"No," she said a little too curtly. Clint continued to stare at her. She looked at him incredulously. "_What?_"

Clint just shook his head and continued where he left off in his explanation of breaking someone's neck. It was a grim topic and she wondered how she could be listening to this as though it were something normal that anyone would say. Had she really been influenced that much by the assassins already? Scary thought. What would she be like in a year? Strangely she wasn't really worried about that, she figured she would be just fine. Tony apparently thought so, too. Killing was going to become a normal thing for her soon; it was a completely normal thing. Why worry?

"Alright," Clint said as he realized Tyler's mind was completely off track. "What is it?"

"What is _what_?" Tyler asked with as much innocence as she could. She had the feeling, though, that it sounded a little more like impatience.

"That," Clint replied pointedly and raised his eyebrows at the way she answered him.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Tyler huffed as she held her fists up. "Now are we going to finish sparring or what?"

Clint didn't move. After a while Tyler knew that she was in no way going to get anywhere by waiting for the agent, so she stepped forward and sent her fist straight toward his face. Clint blocked but refrained from counterattacking, at which point Tyler grabbed the back of his neck with her free hand and pulled down as she thrust her knee upward. Once her knee made contact it knocked the air out of the unsuspecting agent's lungs and he fell to his knees when Tyler let go of him and stepped back. He glared up at her and Tyler shrugged; it was his fault for not paying attention.

Suddenly, Clint was on his feet and lunging forward; there was only one way that he would be able to get through the teenager's thick skull. Despite all of her repeated denying it, she was almost exactly like her father.

Tyler was able to block Clint's blow and she snapped her free hand forward to try to hit him in the gut a second time, but he blocked as well. They both separated and again Tyler went for Clint- she was faster due to all of the agility training she had recently been put through- but Clint was still the elder agent. He sidestepped and let Tyler's momentum throw her off balance before he sent his elbow toward her head. The blow knocked her toward the ground and undoubtedly gave her a bloody lip, but Tyler refused to give in. She stood and attacked again and again, each time failing to land a hit. At one point when Clint had a hold on her fist she kicked her foot upward to hit him but he ended up grabbing hold of her leg. That was when he used her leg to flip her backwards, and that was the moment in which she was no longer Tyler Stark.

In that moment she did a full back flip and landed gracefully on her feet. As soon as her toes touched home she moved forward again, mercilessly attacking Clint who was surprised, to say the least, at her ferocity. She was a quick learner, yes, but never had she been taught the skills she was showing now. This caused him to become suspicious all over again.

He had been suspicious of her from the beginning, being that she showed up out of nowhere and was suddenly Tony Stark's adopted daughter, but this made it clear that she wasn't who she said she was. It made him both angry and sad that he had to think this, but it was always a possibility, even if he had begun to think of Tyler as a little sister. It was very possible that she was an imposter, sent to become Stark's daughter and then to infiltrate S.H.I.E.L.D. How else would she be able to throw Clint off of his groove and even threaten to defeat him?

But, she was still young and not nearly as experienced as him. Finally, Clint showed his true skill and Tyler was on the ground with her head slammed against the floor within a mere second.

She gritted her teeth but didn't cry out as she swallowed down the pain. Her breaths were staggered; she was _way _over reacting. She had no idea where her outburst came from. Clint hardly seemed affected by the short little bout physically, but there was surprise and anger behind his eyes as he knelt next to Tyler and enclosed his hand around her neck.

"Alright," he said close to her ear, "game's up. Who the hell are you?"

"Clint!" Natasha yelled from the ground. It all happened so fast: one moment Clint saw Tyler as a harmless trainee and the next danger flared in his eyes as though he were up against an enemy. In the blink of an eye, Tyler was on the floor with Clint threatening to strangle the life out of her.

Tyler's eyes widened and her muscles tensed. The danger she was in suddenly became very real. She had been able to attack Clint with so much accuracy that no one in their right mind would think she had only had five weeks of training, half of that not even battle training. She knew very well what scenarios were probably running through the battle-hardened agent.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she managed. Before Clint could react, he was hoisted off the ground by a bristling Captain America and shoved to the side of the ring.

"What are you doing?" Steve demanded as Natasha rushed forward to help Tyler to her feet. Clint caught himself on the rails of the boxing ring and his eyes darted between Steve and Natasha.

"Don't tell me you didn't see that," he said with disbelief.

"See what?" Steve questioned and held his arms out to his sides. "You attacked her so she defended herself."

"Oh, come on," Clint growled and stepped up to Steve. "She attacked first. Besides, she should not have been able to defend herself so easily if she's just a beginner. You've been watching her progress these past few weeks; she's been learning fast but not _that _fast. She did a _back flip _and then countered like she'd been fighting for years! You can't tell me that isn't a little suspicious to you."

Steve's jaw set and he faltered a little; Clint was right. Though he didn't handle it how Steve would, Tyler couldn't have been able to do that unless she had more experience under her belt. He turned to Tyler who was now standing next to Natasha with wide eyes. She was terribly confused and didn't have the slightest idea what was happening, even he could see it.

"So maybe she wasn't telling the full truth about her experience," he conjectured and then turned to Clint. "That doesn't give you the right to hold her down like some prisoner of war."

Clint rolled his eyes. "Oh, so now _I'm _the bad guy?"

Clint had to admit that he might be overreacting a little. Tyler had been on the ship for a whole five weeks and she hadn't had one instance that should cause him to be suspicious, except for what just happened now. The way Steve looked at him made him feel guilty even though infiltration wasn't at all uncommon and he'd actually dealt with it before.

The person who infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D. previously had done exactly what Tyler did. She got close to him and he let his guard down. It resulted in the death of too many people; he couldn't let it happen again. Suddenly, a voice drew everyone's attention away from each other and toward the entrance of the gym.

"I leave for one day, _one day_, and you guys are already at each other's throats," Director Fury growled as he walked toward the middle of the gym.

Steve straightened as he realized who had addressed them.

"Director Fury," he greeted. "We were just…" he glanced at Clint, "settling an issue."

"What kind of issue does it take to set Clint against two of his fellow agents?" Fury asked almost sarcastically. Tyler's eyes flashed as Fury said the word two. Sure, she was new compared to the others, but wasn't she considered an agent by now? She hated how he always acted as though she weren't there; it reminded her too much of how Tony was neglecting to call her. Clint was the one to answer his question.

"It's Tyler," he growled and motioned to Tyler. "The circumstances of how she got into S.H.I.E.L.D. in the first place were fishy to begin with, but she attacked me just now as though she'd been trained her whole life to do so."

He took in a deep breath and sighed; he really didn't like to go around accusing anyone of something without much proof, but he couldn't be too careful. Especially with the matter of that video Tony had apparently showed Fury. After all this time, the Director still neglected to show them what it was.

"I think there is more to her than either of you are letting on," he finished. There was a long pause after this.

"Sir?" Steve asked when Fury didn't answer. Fury looked to him and then let his eyes wander over the group until they made contact with Tyler, who had to do her best not to hide behind Natasha. She finally understood why he was the leader of a group of highly trained assassins. He could probably kill someone just by looking at them.

"I do believe you're just as in the dark about this as them, correct?" he asked. Tyler wasn't sure if her voice would work in that moment so she settled with a small nod. She had no idea what the big deal was about the way she fought, it just happened. Was there something she should know?

"Wait," Clint said and turned to her. "You seriously have no idea what's going on?"

Tyler shook her head, relieved that most of the threat in the agent's voice was replaced by befuddlement. Natasha, who had been completely silent, searched Fury with sharp eyes.

"Explanation," she demanded. Fury looked to the assassin and held her gaze for a while before he sighed and let his eyes travel over the group one last time.

"Come with me," he ordered as he turned on his heel and headed out. Tyler hesitated and merely watched as the three elder agents followed the director. Was he talking to her as well? Tentatively, she followed a few feet behind everyone else and opted to continue until she was told otherwise.

The hall was busy with other personnel walking to and from their stations, but Tyler felt as though a heavy blanket was settled on top of the agents following Director Fury; not a word passed between any one of them. By the time they reached the room they had been headed to Tyler was sure that someone had pushed a mute button on the group.

The room they entered was spacious, but not overly large like many of the other rooms on the ship. It was plain and contained a desk with a large swivel chair on one side and two visitor chairs on the other. An almost invisible computer screen occupied the top of the desk and on the back wall was a larger screen that was probably for groups such as this one.

When the door was shut, Fury walked over to his desk and began fiddling with the computer. After a moment, he pulled up a video on both the monitor on his desk and the one on the wall.

"As you know," he began, "I let Tyler come aboard this ship when previously I didn't care about her existence."

_Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, _Tyler thought to herself.

"The answer to your question of why is in this one video Stark handed over," he continued without noticing the glare Tyler was trying and failing to send his way. Or maybe he just ignored it? He leaned forward and pushed the play button without a reaction.

The video began with a close-up of Tony in one of his many workshops. He looked a little tired, but his excitement seemed to wash away most of the symptoms.

"Okay," he began in a hushed voice, "it's midnight, I'm pretty sure Tyler is asleep. I am Tony Stark. This video is a log of… well, it's not really a log, but… Ah! Skip the formalities. I have discovered something new about Tyler. I'm not entirely sure what it means but, well… you'd better just watch for yourself."

Tony's face cut out and the screen switched to the kitchen where Tyler was seated at the island counter that occupied the middle of the room. Tony was standing on the opposite side of the island and was doing his best to be persuasive.

"C'mon," he said to his, at that time, twelve year old daughter. "I just want to see how good you've become."

"No," Tyler growled. "Not until you tell me why."

"Ty, I _told _you why," he replied with exasperation. When his daughter still didn't reply, he sighed. "How about I take you to Coney Island?"

Tyler's eyes immediately lighted up and she sat upright in the stool she was on. Before she could say anything, however, Tony pointed a finger at her.

"But first you have to do it," he negotiated. Tyler's demeanor fell at this comment and she frowned but eventually nodded.

"Only if you take me tomorrow," she said. Tony looked at her like she was crazy.

"Really? Tomorrow? I have to…" he stopped as he saw Tyler deadpanning him. "The only way I can get you to do it is if I take you tomorrow, isn't it?"

Tyler nodded and Tony rolled his eyes.

"Fine, Miss Swan, have it your way," he grumbled. All that did was cause Tyler to glare at him.

An almost inaudible mumble from Clint interrupted the video.

"Why doesn't she get mad at him when he calls her that?" he asked with what could have been a little hurt tainting his tone. Natasha elbowed him hard to shut him up and he didn't interrupt for the rest of the video.

On the screen, Tony was holding two fingers behind his back.

"Two," Tyler said with a monotone. Tony switched to be holding eight up, and Tyler said that number. This went on for a few more rounds and Tyler was able to successfully guess all of the numbers correctly.

The scene switched back to Tony's close-up in his lab.

"That, my friends, wasn't staged," he informed. "She guessed the numbers without my telling her what numbers I was going to hold up and without being able to see my fingers in any reflection. Before you ask what the significance of that is, I invite you to see this next video… filmed by Pepper."

The scene switched to Tony sitting down on the living room couch with Tyler, now somewhere around fifteen, standing right behind him.

"Is it rolling?" Tony asked the space behind the camera.

"Yes," Pepper's voice answered from off screen. Tony nodded and directed his attention to the lens.

"Okay, pay close attention to both Tyler and I," he informed the invisible audience.

After that, Tony made one of his many ridiculous faces. Tyler, after a moment of studying the back of her father's head, mirrored the face to the best of her ability. It wasn't perfect, but it was still pretty spot on. Tony did a few other faces and paused a few moments after each so it was possible to compare his and Tyler's face as Tyler changed her face to match her father's. When he was done he pointed in the direction of the camera.

"Observe," he said as the camera turned, "how there are no reflective surfaces on that wall."

Indeed, the wall opposite Tony was just a plain wall that couldn't reflect anything whatsoever. The camera turned back to Tony who used his thumbs to point behind him.

"I did not tell her what faces I would be doing," he said, "She's a pro."

The film cut and moved back to Tony in his lab.

"Alright," he began, "I know both of those scenes seemed completely irrelevant to anything of importance, but you have to admit Tyler's got some mad skills, right? If I were the type of guy to believe in psychics, I might say that she is one, but I'm not. I tried doing this same experiment when she was in another room but it failed, so she can only mirror what I'm doing when she can see me.

"I believe that she has an enhanced eye for the movements of muscles. When I took her to a place for some self-defense training she was able to perfectly mirror every move she'd been showed on her fist try. When they were separated to spar in small groups, she could anticipate every one of her opponent's moves with ease.

"This theory would make her a perfect warrior. It's sort of like… muscle memory. She sees it and she can do it. But also, she can look at the way someone's muscles tense before they move and she's able to tell exactly what they are doing before they can do it. I figure this might be an important fact for the future but," Tony abruptly stopped and looked away from the camera as though he'd heard something. "Gotta go," he said quickly and the camera was turned off.

Tyler stared at the now empty screen with two questions. The first: but _what? _Tony hadn't finished his statement. The second: what was the big deal with that? Couldn't everybody do it?

The way everybody in the room was now looking at her she highly doubted it. Her eyes darted from one face to another as she opened her mouth to try to say something, but nothing came out. Finally she had to look down to the floor.

All her life she thought that being able to read someone's movements was something everyone could do but now she felt as though she was some kind of freak. Tony catalogued her ability like it was some phenomenon that no one had ever experienced before. He showed it to Fury to ensure that she was let on the ship to be trained. Worse than that, he kept it a secret. If he knew about it then why didn't he tell her? Did he… did he always plan to keep this talent to himself until he needed leverage for something? How could he see her everyday and lie right to her face about who she was? Was she even human?

Hundreds more questions flowed through her mind and soon she couldn't handle them all. She took a step back and hit the wall behind her. She glanced around the room with wide eyes before she realized that Steve had stepped toward her and was asking if she was okay. She just looked at him with unseeing eyes.

"What am I?" she whispered.

* * *

_Two posts in a day, WHAT is going on here? I am officially addicted to writing this fanfic. And you know what? I haven't even reached the main point of the story yet, nor do I intend to for at least another two chapters. At least. Wow, mind=blown. _

_Thank you all for reading, I hope you liked it. I'm always looking for tips or encouragement so please review! (And a HUGE thank you to those who have reviewed already, you guys keep me going!) ^^  
_

_-KC_


	8. Busted!

Chapter 8: Busted!

Those three words, so lost and helpless. Three words spoken with so much vulnerability. That question that no one in their right minds would want to have to ask. Three simple, foreboding words…

_What am I?_

He knew the sensation of feeling that you were more, or less, than human. He knew what it felt like to think you were all alone in the world. He knew what it was to think that you were a freak and that you had no place among the human, or any, race. He himself had asked those same words more than once after he had been given the serum.

But when Tyler asked that question it seemed so much more pitiful, so much more… cast away. With her eyes wide and confused her words had barely been able to escape her lips before Steve's heart dropped. This was only her second month with S.H.I.E.L.D. and her world had already been turned upside-down. That had to be one twisted record that had been set.

Steve almost reached out to Tyler but she flinched away before he was able to actually complete the motion. Every move he made she could anticipate; it must've been so painful for her so think about after what she just saw. That's why he didn't make another move when Tyler ran out of the room. He just stood there and stared as the automatic door slid to a close.

Clint almost wanted to run after Tyler to tell her that whatever was running through her head wasn't true, but he couldn't. Tyler might have only resisted and made everything worse due to how fresh her wound was. There was no comforting to be done at that moment, but that didn't mean there wouldn't come a time later. And he would be there at that time, but right then he turned on Fury.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he demanded with an unusually large amount of fire in his eyes. "In what way did you think that was going to help Tyler's situation at all?"

Fury looked at him with a tilted head. "What do you propose I should have done, given the circumstances, Agent Barton?"

Clint's nostrils flared and his fists clenched. He hated how detached the Director seemed after what just happened. He just told a nineteen year old girl that she was different from everybody else without a thought to how she might respond.

"I highly doubt that was the only way she could have been told about her ability," Clint spit out. "You know very well that Stark is currently in a rocky relationship with her. Did you really think that would help?"

"It doesn't matter whether it helped her daddy issues or not," Fury replied with a slightly raised voice. "She needed to know or-"

"Or what?" Clint interrupted with a surprisingly calm voice; a telltale sign that Fury just pushed him a little too far. "Or she would have found out for herself what she was and then, feeling slighted, would have released an army of Chitauri on Manhattan? Somehow comparing her to Loki doesn't sit right with me. I wonder why that could be."

"I wasn't comparing her to Loki, Barton."

"Then what _were _you doing?" Clint snarled and flung his arm out behind him to where Tyler had just been. "Were you trying to make her feel so abandoned by her father that she decided to sever ties with him completely? I assure you Tony is doing that just fine on his own. I see absolutely no point in so ungraciously-"

"Once again, Barton," Fury interrupted, "under the circumstances I had no choice. You were questioning her about how she was able to fight so well but she had no answers. You went so far as to accuse her of being an imposter and you held her _by her neck_ on the ground. If I had shown you the video and you stopped pestering her about it then she would become suspicious. She may not be exactly like Stark, but her mind runs in the same direction. There was no outcome where she wouldn't feel hurt by learning about her ability so I decided hiding what she is from her wasn't in our best interests. She was going to have to find out one way or another."

"Oh, and let me guess. This was the best way?" Clint sniffed with disgust. "For some reason I have a hard time believing that."

"Believe what you want," Fury said blatantly. Clint had the right mind to say something he would probably regret later, but he knew that if he did then his words could very well be accompanied by something a little more physical. So, without further arguing with the Director, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.

Natasha looked at Fury without saying anything. She didn't have to; it was all written behind her eyes. Fury need only glance at her for a moment before he discerned that she, too, felt the same as Clint. A moment later she turned and left the room, calmly, but very pointedly. That left Steve and Fury alone.

Steve stood ramrod straight with his hands clasped behind his back and fought away a scowl that threatened to form on his lips. He didn't like the way Fury dealt with things most of the time, especially not in this particular instance, but he felt that disrespecting his superiors wasn't the right thing to do. No matter how much he felt the urge to do it. So, as respectively and cordially as possible, he said to Fury:

"Productively dealing with other people's feelings isn't your strong suit, Sir."

With that, he turned and left.

Fury stared at the door in front of his desk with a very, _very _slight trace of sorrow in his eyes. Of course he didn't want to hurt Tyler. Though he wouldn't admit it, the kid had grown on him a little. But there truly was no other way since she was bound to find out no matter what he did to keep her in the dark. She would begin asking questions when she was able to move onto a higher level of hand-to-hand combat than the rest of the agents around her. Hell, he was surprised she hadn't already asked Tony to help her hack into the S.H.I.E.L.D. mainframe.

The outcome of his actions might not have merited anything in Tyler's favor at that particular moment, but he was fairly certain it would be better than what would have happened had she stumbled across the knowledge of her talent on her own. Right then, he could have only hoped Tony was ready with some damn good excuses to keep Tyler's anger down.

Tyler slammed the door to her room behind her and locked it. She remained leaning on the door with her hands for a few minutes, breathing unnaturally heavily, before she pushed away from it and began pacing back and forth across her room. She did her best to control her breathing but she just couldn't. It felt as though her lungs were burning and no matter how much air she _tried _to suck in she continued to be suffocating. As a result, she couldn't think straight. She knew something terrible just happened but she couldn't quite grasp what it was. She also hardly understood why she couldn't breathe.

But then somehow she remembered. Clumsily she made it over to her bag and had to prop her weight with her hands on the arm chair that the bag was on so she didn't fall over. With her eyes barely able to focus on what she was doing, her hands fumbled through her bag until, stuffed into one of the corners, she found it. Her inhaler.

She put it up to her lips, pressed down on the button, and took a deep breath. Immediately her lungs were relieved and her hand dropped as she began to regain a mental foothold on what just happened. She hadn't had an asthma attack in _four years. _It was a miracle she still had her inhaler on her person. Why had she all of a sudden failed to breathe properly when she hadn't done any physical type of activity that she wasn't used to doing?

After another moment of confusion she finally remembered why she had sprinted to her room in the first place. Considering what she had just found out, maybe it wasn't an asthma attack but a panic attack. Perhaps she merely fooled herself into thinking it was her asthma acting up so that she could calm down. Whatever the reason, she wasn't sure whether she should be glad or not about it, because now the full weight of what she discovered crashed down on her shoulders once again.

Tony had apparently made the conclusion that Tyler's natural talent for combat was something called muscle memory or whatever, and he kept it a secret. How long had he known? At the least he knew for nine years. _Nine years, _and he couldn't shed a little light on the subject for her. Instead it had to be Director Fury of all people to tell her what she was. As far as she could tell, this was the only thing that gave Fury reason enough to let her on the ship. As far as she could tell, all of the other agents and trainees had some history with killing or whatever. She just had this inhuman ability.

The HQ was a large place and it was probably impossible for her to see everything, but there were some things she couldn't be kept from. She had questions of this earlier, but she failed to work up the courage to ask anyone about it.

About halfway into her second week of training she decided to skip a day because, hey, she was getting a little bored of the normal routine. What she found herself at the doorstep of was a parkour course that Steve had earlier shown her. She had to admit that she was a little frustrated Clint hadn't started to train her on it when he knew she was a sucker for such things; skateboarding her whole life certainly helped her to develop appreciation for "street sports."

When a large group of people around her age walked into the room and began training she observed that none of them were full-fledged agents, save one who seemed to be supervising them. That was when she realized that there were actual groups of trainees, which wasn't that farfetched at all. S.H.I.E.L.D. probably needed a lot of agents and couldn't put one agent for every single kid they were training or there would be no one to carry out missions.

So why did she get not one, but three agents training her? At first she suspected it was because of Tony, but she doubted that even he had that much sway over Fury. So apparently she couldn't train with the normal classes because she was some weirdo who could see and copy other people's movements. She deserved "special treatment." She needed to be trained by the best right away so that she could be sent into the field as fast as possible.

Actually, that wasn't too bad. It was pretty cool; she was being trained by the best when no one else was. Ha! Her problem in this situation was that no one told her about it until now. Wouldn't it have been a little easier if she knew about this so that Clint didn't have to waste his time showing her a move several times over? From what Tony said, all she had to do was see the move once for her to be able to do it. What good did he think keeping this secret would do? On top of neglecting to contact her he hadn't told her who – or what – she really was.

Now she was left to question everything he'd ever told her. Had he really adopted her because he began to like her or because he knew of her ability and wanted to experiment with it? Hell, was his name even Tony Stark? Right then she didn't know a damn thing except that in the next few moments she had completely lost control of her actions.

She hadn't lashed out yet, though. Instead she moved to the bedside table and grabbed her phone that she left virtually untouched for the past five weeks. She unlocked it and, surprise, no messages from Tony. As she sat down on her bed she typed out a message that made it blatantly clear she wanted to rip her father's head off. Could she really even call him that anymore? She decided to use his actual name instead of "Dad".

_What the hell is wrong with you, Tony? – _the message said.

She put her phone down and stood up with the expectation that Tony wouldn't text back until much later, since he could never find it in himself to text her first. But then, before she had even made it halfway to the bathroom, an unmistakable vibrating stopped her in her tracks. She turned very slowly and walked as though she were wading in thigh-deep caramel back to her bed. She picked up the phone and looked at the screen with the hope that it was some server that texted her to say that Tony was out of the country and the message couldn't be sent or something, but she knew better. The message was from him.

_What did I do this time? _– Tony asked.

Tyler just stared and continued to stare even when the screen timed out and faded to black. Never could Tony spare a moment of his day to send her a text on his own- _never. _When he had something to actually remind him that he did indeed adopted a daughter, however, he replied without hesitation. Normally that would be a good thing, but if he had the time to text her back that quickly then why didn't he make his own effort to contact her?

That was when she truly lost control. Before when she had unconsciously made the decision to text Tony she was sure she would have had the power to stop herself if she really wanted to, but this time was different. This time the fuse to the TNT ran out.

And suddenly, her phone was in pieces as it hit the wall that was in front of her. She turned and threw herself face first on her bed without feeling any regret about the thing. She rarely used it anyway, and it was a phone Tony had made for her. Ergo, she didn't give a crap about it. Or anything else. Truthfully, she would be fine if Tony stayed away from her the rest of her life. Maybe then she'd be able to focus on actually becoming a good S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.

It was admittedly childish what Tyler did next, but she did it anyway. She pressed her pillow firmly to her face and screamed. She figured it was better than stealing one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s jets which was another possibility of what she could do. She could steal a jet and then… she could steal a jet.

Suddenly, without thinking any more on it, Tyler stood and began throwing all of her belongings in her bag. If Tony wanted to ignore her, then she would ignore him in a much more dangerous fashion. She could fly the jet to some other country and use the credit card, connected to Tony's account, to buy what she needed. Giving him a little scare would hardly be anything compared to what he was making her go through. She wanted to be left alone and the only way she would truly obtain that was if she literally left; never mind that she had only received about one or two hour's worth of instruction on how to fly.

Once she had everything that she would need she changed out of her workout clothes and into a white T-shirt, black cargo pants, and her black combat boots. For a moment as she stuffed her old clothes into her bag she had second thoughts. She had _no _clue how to fly a jet. Once she had it in the air she could set it on auto pilot, but first she had to manually pull it out of the hangar and make it fly. Not to mention that landing also had to be done manually. This was probably a bad idea but… to heck with it. She needed out of that place and she didn't care how she did it, even if she had to crash-land. Tony could pay for it, anyway.

She just about grabbed her bag to leave but something stopped her. Was she _really _expecting to just go out there and steal a S.H.I.E.L.D. jet in broad daylight without any form of plan at all? She almost snorted at the naivety of the notion. Once she was inside the hangar she would likely have to stay until she made her move because she highly doubted anyone could just walk in there when it was night time. She would probably need a high clearance badge or something like that, and she didn't have the time or resources to get one. So she strapped her bag to her shoulder so that she wouldn't have to make a return trip for it later.

She made her way through the halls quickly and took extra care to watch out for any of her three trainers who would likely ask annoyingly sympathetic questions. Thankfully she didn't run into anyone that she knew and made it to the hangar in a decent amount of time.

The hangar was huge and inconveniently too busy for Tyler to go unnoticed if she was lurking around the jets. So, she looked to the right and saw that to the very back of the room were metal stairs that led to the catwalks up above. While the raised floors weren't completely hidden from view, a lot less people would see her and she would be able to see every jet in the room. It was her best bet.

She climbed the stairs and made it to the middle of the catwalk that ran across the length of the hangar without being stopped or questioned. Once there, she sat down and let her feet dangle over the edge as she studied the floor below.

There were more types of jets and planes than Tyler could count, but the only model she had been familiarized with was a black fighter that was supposed to be for special ops. In that sense, it would probably be the hardest to get her hands on. But she just couldn't stay holed up in that ship for any longer, so no matter what, she was going to do it.

From what it looked like, a few of the black jets' cockpits remained open while a guard watched over them from the inside. Clint had said that they were almost always prepped and ready for flight in case an emergency mission popped up, which happened often. Apparently the only reason Clint and Natasha weren't sent on any of those missions was because they were too busy training Tyler.

Was she really _that _valuable? When she had first arrived she truly had no intention of staying too long. She had no idea why she chose to remain there. It could have been because of Jackie, but she didn't think that was it. So why?

Tyler kept her gaze on the people who moved in the proximity of the black jets and found that there was hardly a second that no one was outside of the jet, and absolutely zero time that the jet was empty. There was always someone _inside, _probably to make sure no one like her tried to access the jet when they weren't supposed to. She hoped that at night there would be a lot less people roaming around so that she would only have to deal with the few patrol guards.

About an hour later, no one had noticed or at least cared about where Tyler was, but she felt vibrations through the metal that was a sure sign of someone about to walk around the corner. At first she thought of just staying there and hoping that whoever was walking by wouldn't ask questions, but then she heard a dreadfully familiar voice. Without thinking about it, she pushed herself over the edge of the catwalk and hung onto it upside down. She pushed her feet through a support bar underneath the walkway so that she wouldn't be too obvious to the people below, and then she shifted her bag to be on her stomach so that it also didn't hang too low. She breathed as quietly as she could through her nose and silently thanked Steve for all of the strength training she had received from him or else she'd probably fall to the floor after only a few seconds of holding herself there.

"Of course I'm worried," Clint was saying as he and Natasha walked along the catwalk. "I can't find her anywhere and when I checked in her room all of her things were gone, except her phone which was smashed to pieces. What do _you_ think that means?"

Tyler silently willed for the two to keep walking, but they stopped practically on top of her and Clint leaned his arms on the safety rail. It might not have been that much of a problem if the catwalks were solid, but they had holes in the metal that Tyler was sure would give her away. However, the two agents seemed too occupied in their discussion to have looked down. Tyler hoped it remained that way.

"It could mean anything," Natasha reassured. "Maybe she decided to have a sleepover with Jackie or something and thought that it wouldn't really be a sleepover unless she brought all of her things."

"You don't think Jackie's the first person I asked?" Clint replied with heavy sarcasm and a glance in Natasha's direction. "She has absolutely no idea where Tyler is. Bruce doesn't either. I asked Maria to check on the security cameras to see if she was anywhere in the open, but she wasn't. How much do you want to bet that she's planning on finding a life boat and jumping into the ocean?"

Natasha huffed and leaned with her back on the bars and her arms folded over her chest. Tyler would've reacted in the same way if she wasn't busy both hiding and doing her best not to loose the strength in her arms. Her muscles weren't shaking yet, but she knew that if the conversation persisted too much longer then they would.

"That's absurd, Clint," Natasha scoffed. "Tyler's not that stupid. If she's anywhere then it's in some hidden corner of storage or something. She just needs some space, she'll come around soon."

Clint sighed and looked at Natasha.

"I hope you're right," he said quietly. Natasha's gaze softened and she turned so that she was facing her partner.

"Why don't we go to the mess hall and eat? Its dinner and I highly doubt Tyler would want to miss it. She's got an appetite that comes close to yours, if that's even possible."

It was then that Tyler noticed something between the two she hadn't before and her brow furrowed. Just how long had they known each other? That moment of silence they shared seemed too heavy for them to just be "partners." Suddenly she realized how little she knew of, not just them, but everyone she had met so far.

In that next moment, Tyler's muscles decided to protest. She gritted her teeth and did her best to keep her breathing as quiet as possible, but she was sure that the agents should have heard her by then. She closed her eyes and urged Clint to hurry up and leave so that she didn't fall or something else embarrassing. She had been done with embarrassing since the first day she arrived at the aircraft carrier.

"Alright," Clint finally said and graced Natasha with a smile that seemed a little forced to Tyler. Natasha smiled back comfortingly and began to make her way to the mess hall. Clint stayed behind for a moment longer and Tyler found that she increasingly wanted to scream at him to move. Her arms were shaking with the effort of keeping both her and her bag suspended in the air without much support.

When Clint began walking away Tyler let out a very faint sight of relief, but then something happened she didn't intend. She hadn't realized it before but her bag had been slowly slipping to the side. She noticed it too late to do anything and it fell off of her quite suddenly. It stayed connected to her due to the strap, but the force almost caused Tyler to loose her grip and when the noise from it reached Clint's ears he stopped and whirled around.

Tyler had to hold her breath and grind her teeth together so that she didn't make any grunts from the new strain being placed on her. Clint stayed there for what seemed a millennia as his eyes scanned the catwalk to find what made the noise. Tyler willed him to stop looking and turn around, but he didn't seem inclined to do so. He took a couple steps forward so that he was right above Tyler and she was sure he was going to find her, but then a heavenly call came from where Natasha had disappeared.

"Clint, is something wrong?" the female assassin called to him. Clint paused to look over the area in front of him one last time before he turned around and proceeded to the exit. As he was turning Tyler thought she saw his eyes look across the floor where she was, but he didn't stop turning. _That _was way too close for comfort. She had no idea how he missed her.

"No, nothing," he replied to Natasha, "just thought I heard something."

Tyler waited a few excruciating moments before she let go of the air she had held in her lungs and shuffled so that she could once again be on the top of the catwalks. She rolled onto her back when she had pulled herself up and stayed there with her breaths coming out staggered. That was something that she didn't want to have to go through ever again. Her arms quite heavily agreed.

After a minute or two lying on her back, Tyler hefted herself up into a sitting position and looked around for another place to wait out the last few hours of the day, but unless she went back to ground level there wasn't anywhere that was less seeable than where she was, so she decided to remain there.

Time passed painfully slow, especially for her empty stomach, but when it became eight everything was locked down and everyone exited the hangar, save for a few guards. Tyler took that as her cue and began quickly and quietly making her way down the stairs and toward the area where the fighter jets were resting.

As it turned out, only one jet was left prepped, so that would be the one she would have to take. The only problem was that there wasn't anything around it so she would have to make absolutely sure that the guards wouldn't be able to see her as she ran across the clearing.

Tyler snaked through the maze of planes and barrels with her legs bent so that she was low to the ground. She made sure she was traveling heel-toe to mask as much of the tapping from her boots as she could. A sound from the left reached her ears and she practically dove behind one of the many sets of plastic barrels lining the floor. She waited with her breath held in her throat as the guard passed without falter; she wasn't noticed.

When she was sure he was gone she slowly came around the barrels and once again made her way to the jet. The rest of the way was clear and, thankfully, the cockpit was still open so she didn't have to find a way to do that on her own.

At the edge of the clearing, however, Tyler could see three different guards patrolling. This was going to be the hardest part. She waited and watched for a good fifteen minutes before there was a break in their line of vision. Without a second to think, Tyler took it and was running silently toward the jet.

She made it across the clearing undetected, but as soon as she put her first foot onto the metal platform leading into the cockpit, someone found her.

"Hey, you," the guard called out. "You're not supposed to be here!"

Tyler froze in her spot. _Busted._

* * *

_Ah, sorry for the late post! I was going to post like three days ago, but things kept coming up. T^T Sorry for the wait, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Pretty please review. :3  
_

_-KC_


	9. The Truth About Tony

**_WARNING: _**

_This chapter as well as the next couple of chapters have Iron Man 3 spoilers in them. Since I'm mostly writing in Tyler's POV I won't reveal the key points in the plot, it is Tony who experienced them and not Tyler, but there will be references to the movie and the ending will also be revealed. Ye be warned! Don't throw tomatoes at me if you haven't watched the movie. I wrote this WHOLE paragraph specifically so that you wouldn't have to do that… Okay, rant/warning done, on to the story! :D_

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Chapter 9: The Truth About Tony That Cannot be Told

_Okay, okay, don't panic, _Tyler told herself as she stopped in her tracks. _Panicking never helped anyone; it will only make you seem more suspicious._

Tyler straightened and turned around with an innocent smile on her face. She didn't move as the guard walked up to her.

"How did you get in here?" he demanded. Tyler's brow furrowed.

"What do you mean?" she asked. Her mind whizzed through all of the protocol measures that she had learned about from Clint and Natasha. "The guard at the door let me through. I have Level Two clearance. I need this jet for my mission."

The guard shifted his weight and repositioned the large gun that he was carrying as if to remind Tyler of its presence.

"I don't recall hearing about any night flying missions," he said suspiciously. Tyler raised her eyebrow and looked at him as though he was stupid.

"That's probably because it's _classified _and no one is supposed to know about it," she came back quickly. Thank goodness that she was raised by Tony or she definitely wouldn't have been this good of a liar. "I've already said too much. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

She turned and stepped farther onto the platform of the jet, but the guard still wasn't satisfied.

"If you're planning on flying at night, don't you think you'll need a copilot?"

Tyler grimaced. Yes, she most definitely did. It was protocol, even when it wasn't during the night that she was flying. But did she have one? No. She turned and opened her mouth to say something, but another voice stopped her.

"That would be me," it said. Tyler leaned to her right so that she could see behind the guard and her heart did two things at once (if that was even possible). It soared because she was just saved from being taken into question, but it dropped because it was Clint who was walking toward them with his weapons and a black duffel bag in hand. The whole reason for going on this jet was to avoid him, Steve, and Natasha. There went that plan, tumbling out the door and sinking to the bottom of the ocean…

The guard turned around and looked Clint up and down. When he realized who just spoke his sense of authority fell through the floor.

"Oh, Hawkeye," he stammered, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize-"

Clint held his hand up for silence. "It's alright; you were just doing your job. You can return to your post."

The guard nodded and hurriedly returned to making his rounds, which left Tyler alone with the deadly assassin. Her heart melted even more when Clint's eyes rested on her. For the life of her she couldn't tell what was going on inside his head but due to the slight scowl he had she took a wild guess that he wasn't thinking of giving her a cupcake. She offered a small smile so that Clint didn't bash down on her.

"Hey, Clint," she began, but was interrupted.

"Where exactly are you planning on going?" Clint asked as he moved past her and into the cockpit. Tyler stood there a moment as she stared at the spot he just left, and then she turned around with confusion written all over her face. So… he wasn't there to reprimand her? She wasn't sure what made him let her off the hook, but she took the chance and followed him before he changed his mind.

"Out of the country," she said. She abandoned all caution because it would probably hurt her situation more than help it. "Maybe India or something. I just need to go somewhere that Tony can't find me."

Clint lifted his bag and placed it into one of the compartments above the seats without flinching at the absurd idea. And he decided not to point out that she was calling Tony "_Tony_"instead of "Dad".

"India's actually not a bad idea," he said as he turned to the pilot's seat. "We don't have very many enemies there, but there also aren't an overwhelming amount of S.H.I.E.L.D. head quarters lying about. We'll be able to remain hidden a lot easier that way." He paused for a moment after he was seated and then turned the chair around to face Tyler. "But, we'll have to pass over Algeria to do that…"

Tyler raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong with Algeria?"

Clint didn't answer. Instead, he swiveled in the pilot seat and pressed the button to close the platform leading into the cockpit. Tyler rolled her eyes and pushed her bag into the compartment next to where Clint's own things were. Once the compartment was closed she sat down in the co-pilot's seat, but she highly doubted she was going to be doing anything with the controls.

Clint pulled his set of communication headphones over his ears and spoke into it as he began flipping all of the switches to turn the jet on.

"This is Hawkeye to Alpha One, do you copy?" he asked. Tyler pulled her own set of headphones on just so that she could keep track of the conversation. A moment later a wave of static made its way into her ears before a familiar voice replied.

"This is Black Widow, I will be directing your flight today. Alpha One is on a break."

Clint smiled and Tyler looked over at him with disbelief. She moved the microphone away from her mouth so that her voice wasn't picked up on the other end.

"Black Widow as in Natasha?" she questioned. Clint just continued to smile as Natasha relayed directions of where to drive the plane. It didn't take much longer for them to be on the deck of the ship and gaining speed as they moved toward the ocean. The takeoff was smooth and the climb into the air was even smoother.

"Good luck on your flight, Hawkeye," Natasha said.

"Appreciate it," Clint replied. "Hawkeye out."

Clint flipped a switch on his headphones that turned his mic off and then entered some coordinates in the GPS. Once the plane was switched to autopilot he leaned back in his seat and put his feet on the controls in front of him. Tyler raised an eyebrow but didn't question him as she pulled her headphones off of her head.

She would have been fine with sitting in the silence for the next ten hours of the flight (she would probably just sleep off her hunger and distress) but after only about five minutes of air time, Clint looked over at her.

"There a reason you smashed your phone?" he asked nonchalantly. Tyler glanced at him for only a moment before her eyes once again locked onto the ocean in front of them. No, she just liked to throw random pieces of technology at the wall to see how many shards she could break them into. Favorite pastime of the century! She ignored his question.

He continued to stare holes into her when she didn't answer. Tyler leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes in a silent refusal of acknowledging his existence at that particular moment in time. Before, she had been so surprised to see him that she let her emotional wall break a little, but she prepared it in that first five minute silence, after which she effectively-

"I know what you're doing," Clint interrupted Tyler's reassuring thoughts. Tyler sighed and opened her eyes only to stare at the ceiling above her.

"Tony's a douche," was all she replied. Clint actually had the audacity to chuckle at one of the few things Tyler took absolutely one-hundred percent seriously. She decided to give him a glare for it.

"What?" he asked innocently as he held his hands up to signal a white flag. "I just find that I completely agree with that observation. Even if you're saying it in a…" Clint stopped whatever he was going to say and looked away. He thought better of pointing out that Tyler's statement was rather childish. Tyler sharpened her glare for a moment but decided that she really didn't care. She dropped it and went back to trying to sleep. Clint, however, was relentless.

"You do realize that once Tony finds out about this he's going to come after you, right?" he asked. Tyler groaned and sat up to give Clint another one of her glares.

"What do you want from me?"

The way Clint looked at her with darkness behind his eyes and his jaw firmly clenched made Tyler seriously reconsider what she had just asked.

"Alright, fine," she nipped out before Clint could say anything. She stared out the window at the approaching New York City. Her eyes instinctively wandered across the rooftops of the skyscrapers to search for the Stark Tower. A moment later her eyes flicked to the ceiling of the jet and she continued what she was saying. "I don't care whether Tony scours the whole earth for me or goes back to playing with his little robots. I know he'll come after me, but even if he finds me he's not going to find what he's looking for."

There was a pause of silence before Clint shifted so that he was sitting upright.

"Come on, Tyler, that's not you," he said. "I know Tony can be a – rather large – asshole at times, but even you have to know that he means nothing wrong."

"Nothing wrong," Tyler spat out as she, too, assumed an upright position and sent lightning through her gaze at the agent across from her. "Is that so? Why, then, did he keep his bloody little secret about me for _nine years? _During which he left me to my own devices in his overly giant mansion with _no one _except for JARVIS and occasionally Pepper to be there for me. How come he continues to neglect me as though he never adopted me?"

"He doesn't do that," Clint retaliated firmly. Tyler blinked at the sudden harshness in his voice; it caught her a little off guard. But after she got over the slight shock she scowled.

"And how the hell would you know?" she demanded. Clint paused and continued to give her a harsh stare as he thought of what to say. A scene flashed through his mind that he couldn't push away, but he wasn't sure whether he should share it either…

_Clint dropped tiredly into his bed after the end of the second week of training with this Tyler kid. He had to admit that even he, in all of his stupor, failed to learn as quickly as she. He felt sort of proud of her, as though she were his little sister. That same feeling caused him to worry._

_He had overheard a conversation Tyler had with Jackie – no, he wasn't spying on them, he just happened to be walking by – and the topic of the discussion caused his stomach to wrench with anger, disgust, and sympathy. Though Tyler didn't show that she was being torn apart on the inside, he could hear it in her voice and it made him want to shoot holes into whatever was causing her pain. Until he discovered that it was her father._

_Tony had apparently only called once since he had brought Tyler to meet Clint and Natasha at the runway and that, though she wouldn't admit it, hurt Tyler. It didn't add up, though, since Clint had at least three conversations with Tony over the phone since Tyler came. Though Tony was a little rough around the edges, he hardly thought the man would make such a careless decision on purpose._

_As if on cue, Clint's cell began vibrating on the side table next to his bed. He let out a sigh; there were only five people who knew his number. Natasha, Fury, Coulson, Jackie (how she got his number he will never know), and of course, Tony._

_He knew the first three on the list wouldn't call because his room was right next to theirs, and they were already holed up and probably sleeping. It _was _twelve in the morning, after all. So that left Jackie, but he knew the girl loved her beauty sleep, and… Tony. Consequentially, Tony didn't give a rat's ass staying up all hours into the morning and dragging someone else into his fate of never sleeping._

_Clint almost let the call go to voicemail, but he thought better of it. He needed to talk to Tony about his daughter. With a huff he threw his hand on top of the phone and answered it a split second before the automatic voice kicked in._

"_Yeah?" he slurred into the phone._

"_What, you sleeping already?" came the arrogant reply. Yep, it was Tony._

"_Matter of fact I am. What do you want?"_

_Tony didn't answer right away and in the silence Clint could hear the whizzing and drilling of one of Tony's gadgets. He truthfully wasn't surprised that the billionaire was working on making another one of his alter-egos._

"_Actually, I was hoping for an opinion," Tony finally said. Clint's brow furrowed._

"_About what?"_

"_Tyler."_

_This got the agent to wake up and pull himself into a sitting position. Tony was coming to him for advice on his own daughter? Clint was the one who should need the advice, not otherwise!_

"_Speaking of your daughter," Clint began. He was cut off quite rudely._

"_What colors do you think she'd want her race car to be if she had one?" Tony interrupted. Clint for the life of him couldn't figure out what he had just been asked._

_All he could do was reply with a stupefied: "Huh?"_

_There was a heavy sigh on the other line and some more grinding noises, louder this time. Clint had to hold the phone away from his ear so that it didn't start bleeding from the high-pitched shriek._

"_I thought I stated the question quite simply," Tony said once the drilling stopped. Clint put the phone back to his ear so he could hear the suddenly quite voice; it was as though Tony was now on the other side of the room. "If I were to give Tyler a race car – which I am most definitely not: she'd crash within the first two minutes of driving – what two colors do you think she'd most like it to be?"_

"_Umm, not pink," Clint mused rather stupidly. Another sigh._

"_Well, I wasn't asking what colors she _wouldn't _want," Tony explained with sarcasm. Clint scowled even though he knew the billionaire wouldn't be able to see him._

"_How come you don't know this?" he inquired. "She's your daughter. And why do you even want to know in the first place?"_

_There was a pause and Clint pulled the phone away from his ear before the grinding sound came through. He'd anticipated correctly and saved himself from gaining a headache._

"_Tony," he said once the drilling died down, "what are you doing?"_

"_Making a suit," Tony replied as though it were completely obvious. It really was, but Clint wanted to know why Tony had the sudden interest in his daughter's favorite colors and for some reason he thought that the two didn't connect. Why would Tony want to know Tyler's favorite colors if he was making himself a suit?_

"_I don't know, Tony," Clint finally answered the earlier question. "If we're going by actual racing colors she'd probably like something dark like black mixed with… I dunno, silver. She's not the flashy type."_

_There was a slight pause again and Clint almost drew the phone away from his ear, but it was only Tony's voice that came through._

"_Legolas, my man, you are a genius. Or, as much of a genius as someone with an average IQ can be."_

_Clint rolled his eyes._

"_I love you, too, buddy," he mumbled. _

_The comment went unnoticed as Tony walked away from the phone again and began rummaging through whatever supplies he had in his workshop. Clint waited as patiently as he could for a few minutes, but then he realized that he _really _wanted some sleep. He needed to end the conversation that wasn't really happening at that moment…_

"_Tony," he hailed his friend. No answer. "Tony," he tried a little louder._

_This graced him with a muffled, "What?!"_

"_Do you still have more to say or do you take pleasure in my deprivation of sleep?"_

_There was a large crash that made Clint jump even when he was on the other side of the phone. No way was he sleeping anymore; his senses went on the highest alert._

"_What the hell are you doing?" Clint asked desperately. He knew Tony could really dig himself into a hole of workaholic tendencies, but he didn't think it was ever so bad that he fumbled clumsily about with his things to get the job done. It was as if he had downed three five-hour energy drinks or a whole case of beer. Which, truthfully, wouldn't be that far-fetched._

"_I'm okay, thanks for asking," Tony replied through what sounded like gritted teeth. "You already know what I'm doing, anyway."_

_Clint huffed. "I know what you said you were doing, but even you don't get_ that_ crazy over just a suit."_

_There was the sound of metal scraping concrete as Tony shoved whatever had fallen on top of him away. Scuffling followed only seconds afterward and when Tony spoke it was no longer from across the room._

"_That's because it's not *just* a suit. It's a very important suit that needs to be one-hundred percent perfect. Not that my other suits aren't perfect or anything…"_

_Clint raised an eyebrow. Didn't Tony say that about all of his projects, suits or otherwise? Clint didn't really find it in him to care anymore. He wanted to sleep, but first he had to get a point across to the billionaire before his exhaustion caught up with him._

"_You're a jerk, you know that?" Clint asked. Tony paused, not out of distraction this time, but out of surprise._

"_Why do I get the feeling that those aren't your words?" he inquired._

"_They come from your daughter's mouth," Clint explained. "Why haven't you called her?"_

"_I have," Tony replied with hurt in his voice._

"_Once."_

"_Better than nothing."_

"_Tony, this is the fourth time you've called me. Am I more important than your daughter?"_

_Tony laughed on the other line._

"_That's funny, Robin Hood, very funny. No, you aren't more important, otherwise the suit that I am making wouldn't be for her but for you."_

_Clint frowned._

"_The suit you're making is for Tyler?"_

"_Yes, stupid!" Tony almost shouted through the line. "That's why I said it wasn't an ordinary suit!"_

"_Tony, you always say what you're working on isn't ordinary."_

"_Details, details. Why did you think I needed to know what colors Tyler would want on a racing car if I gave her one?"_

_Suddenly things clicked. Normally Clint wasn't that slow; his weariness must have gotten to him without his notice._

"_Do you really think I would even begin to try to understand your reasoning behind anything that you say?" he asked to make himself seem a little less… stupid, to put it simply. There wasn't likely another person that would be able to connect most of anything that Tony says, but the billionaire never failed to make everyone he talked to seem like the dumbest idiot on the planet no matter what the subject was._

"_Many try and few succeed," Tony agreed. "Now, what's this about Ty calling me a jerk?"_

"_You aren't spending time with her, Tony, she feels neglected and hurt. She was in the foster system for crying out loud, she probably already felt that she wasn't good enough when her biological parents left her. You not calling her is probably bringing that feeling back again."_

"_Nonsense," Tony replied quickly. "If she needs to call me then she can call me."_

"_That's not the point," Clint sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Tony, you're the one not making an effort to keep in contact with her. She likely feels that it won't matter whether or not she talks to you unless it is _you _who instigates the call. It's not a matter of whether she can do it; it's a matter of whether you will do it."_

"_I'm busy making a suit for her-"_

"_But she doesn't know that," Clint interrupted with frustration. Was this really that hard of a concept for him to grasp?_

_There was silence on the other line for a good minute or so before Tony replied._

"_You're right," he admitted. "I know I haven't been in contact but this suit and… other things take my time away. I'm spending so much of the day with what I'm making for Tyler that I don't think of actually calling her." He sighed. "Listen, I'm going to let you go. Don't tell Tyler about the suit, I want it to be a surprise."_

_Clint nodded. "I won't. Call her tomorrow, okay?"_

"_Yeah. Take care of her, alright? Don't teach her how to kill someone just yet; I'm still having drawbacks when I think of her going for someone's throat with a knife."_

_Clint let a small smile tug at the corner of his lips. "No promises."_

"_Ha. Ha. Now shut up and get some sleep."_

_With that, the call ended. Tony never got to talk to Tyler after that._

_Clint wasn't exactly sure what happened, but the next day Fury told him that Tony had done something really stupid. He had voiced a threat to a terrorist onscreen the previous day and didn't forget to mention his home address. Apparently the terrorist responded with blowing up his flat and Tony was presumed to be dead. If that was what Tony meant by "other things" then Clint felt like he wanted to shoot Tony's charred up corpse if it was ever found. He doubted, however, that the billionaire was truly dead. He had to be alive._

_Clint had several chances to tell Tyler the news throughout the day, but he just couldn't. He didn't let anyone else say it either. He saw her talking and laughing at the table and found it a lot less hard not to let the information burst out of his mouth. Tyler would be fine in blissful ignorance for the time being._

Clint blinked as he came back to the present and looked away from the teen in front of him. He was stupid for keeping something like that from Tyler, but he kept hoping that Tony would reveal himself and everything would go back to normal. Two weeks later and still no arrogant, egotistical, admittedly loveable billionaire.

"Tyler," he began quietly, but stopped. Tyler had turned her back toward him due to his trance and proceeded to ignore him. He sighed. What could he really tell her?

_Hey, sorry for not saying anything, especially since you just found out you've been lied to your whole life, but I have some bad news. Your father was exploded in his own home by some terrorist guy named The Mandarin and there is no trace of him or the body. It's been two weeks since the attack on his home so now he is presumed to be dead. Sorry kiddo, but the reason Fury told you about your ability was because Tony won't ever be able to._

That would go over _real _smooth. Instead of burying himself into such a deep hole, Clint leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He hoped that by the time they were both awake he would have figured out something to say. And he also hoped that Tyler wouldn't try to murder him after she heard what he had to tell her…

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The wind blew through Loki's slick, black hair as he stood on top of one of the taller skyscrapers jutting out above the city. From his perch he could easily see the newly rebuilt Stark Tower and a rueful smile crept on his lips. The irony of it all.

He lost so much time and resources just to bring down the city, but now there he was in the center of it. It provided refuge for him, though if he were seen by any of those petty Avengers he would surely be taken prisoner. Or maybe shot on sight. He couldn't wait for the day that he could bring the Midguardians' structures down to dust around his feet. His plan, however, would not work unless he could find someone in the ranks to take down S.H.I.E.L.D. from the inside out.

He raised his lips and growled at how weak the Midguardians were. He could so easily break their bones with just his fist that it wasn't really a wonder that none he came across could handle his spell. It _had _to work, though. That was the one thing in his plan that was missing.

In the distance a low hum alerted him to the oncoming of one of those large flying _planes_, as the Midguardians called them. He looked to the sky and watched as it slowly became larger and larger; it looked as though it was coming straight at him.

He stiffened instinctively. Could they have found him? No, that was impossible; his magic rendered him completely undetectable to the Avengers as long as he didn't go too overboard with his power. He forced himself to relax and scolded himself for being so paranoid. Nothing had happened yet, and it would remain that way.

Loki's brow furrowed as the plane neared and he realized it wasn't the normal aircraft that often flew overhead. This one was a lot smaller and black as opposed to the usual large, white planes. Maybe he _had _had reason to worry. This was not a plane, but a jet. A jet that looked exactly like the one he had been taken prisoner in by four of the Avengers during the first part of his plan.

He scowled at the memory and was about ready to vanish into his warehouse, but something caught his attention. The jet was going too fast for it to be heading for him, so there was no danger in him staying on the roof, but that wasn't why he stopped.

He felt something he had never felt before, yet it somehow seemed familiar. It was a sort of presence that just… captured him. He had the sudden urge to see just who was on the jet, but he knew it was moving too fast for him to teleport onto it.

He settled instead for a quick tracing spell on the object as it flew by. He had no time to cast the spell on the actual person he sensed, but he doubted that whoever it was wouldn't wander too far from their "escape vehicle." Some Midguardian sayings made no sense, but that one certainly had good use.

Loki watched the jet until it disappeared from his view. He had no idea why he acted on such an impulse, but for some reason he didn't feel like he'd made the wrong choice. He was biding his time, anyway, until he found a suitable host for his spell. Why not follow the jet? It wouldn't get him any farther away from his goal.

The only problem was that he didn't have his own jet. He would have to commandeer one if he wanted to find what was tugging at his senses. He had the feeling that he _needed _to see who was on the jet, which was preposterous. The only thing he "needed" was to reclaim the Tessaract and begin his reign on the Midguardians.

He sighed at his own contradictory thoughts and returned to his warehouse to get ready. Whoever he had sensed on the jet had the potential to do something that could ruin his plans. He couldn't have that, now, could he?

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_And we're finally starting to get to the main chunk of the story! ...Sort of. Lol, well, hope you enjoyed because this is going to be the last post for a while. :( I am leaving in two days (during which I have a lot of stuffs to do) to go on a week-long trip where there will be no internet service so I won't be able to post. However, there is electricity so I will write A LOT so that I can post a few chapters as soon as I come back. :) Ta-ta for now, and please review! :D  
_

_-KC_


	10. Stranded

Chapter 10: Stranded

"Shit," Clint cursed as the jet rocked violently to the left. He had a hard time righting the controls to keep them on course. Tyler had jolted awake at the sharp jolt and sat up quickly in her seat.

"What was that?" she asked as she quickly strapped the seatbelt over her.

"We just passed over the Algerian border," he explained, "I put us on stealth mode but I think they have some outside help because that missile was a lot more advanced that it should have been, and they saw us almost immediately."

Tyler looked over at him with wide eyes. "Missile?" she repeated with shock. She looked out of the window and concentrated for a moment. The dawn was a few hours away and there was no light, but they were most definitely losing altitude.

"Don't worry about it," Clint reassured her as he swerved to avoid more missiles. Unfortunately, they were heat tracers and they followed the jet as it turned. Clint's jaw set and glanced at Tyler. "Hold on," he advised. Without waiting for her to actually prepare herself he pulled up on the controls and looped the jet in a wide circle. He fired bullets at the two missiles when he was above them and they exploded into a blooming inferno.

The jet passed through unharmed and two German fighters fell in behind them. Clint tilted his head a bit when he realized where the fighters came from and wondered when exactly Algeria became best buds with Germany. A voice came through the communication system that sounded pretty much like a bunch of jumbled, made-up words and Clint raised an eyebrow.

"I see how it is," he mumbled with his mic still off, "shoot now; ask questions later." He flipped on his mic and said haughtily, "I'm sorry, but I don't exactly speak gibberish." He turned the mic off again and looked over at Tyler. "Told you Algeria was a bad idea."

"Then why didn't you just go _around it_?" Tyler asked with exasperation. Though her father generally led a dangerous life she herself hadn't experienced anything so intense except for the occasional videogame. Clint could hear it in her voice and he averted to light-heartedness since he wasn't a professional in the comforting department.

"Because then we would have run out of gas and either A) fallen into the ocean or B) fallen right outside of Algerian territory. It's hard to just go around something that's thousands of miles wide."

Before Tyler could respond a reply came through the communication system. "Stand down and tell us your mission, American," it said. Clint scowled and flipped his mic on.

"You're asking me to stand down? You were the one who shot at me first," he replied with a little irritation. He knew S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't spotless, but at least they weren't that war-obsessed.

"Last chance," came the reply, "stand down or we will shoot."

"You already did shoot," Clint barked back angrily and switched off all communication gear. He was royally pissed and there was no way he was going to listen to their demands; he was absolutely certain that he could outfly them with a blindfold.

"Clint, think about this," Tyler urged from beside him. "We've already been hit and we're losing altitude."

"Well, then, I'll just have to finish them before we hit the ground, won't I?" he asked. Tyler didn't look too convinced, but she said no more.

Clint flipped on a camera that showed the air behind them and switched the gun control to aim at the jets that were tailing them. He dipped and swerved as bullets flew through the air towards them, all the while trying to get a good shot at them.

"C'mon, c'mon, let me hit you," he urged the jets. Tyler couldn't help but question his methods. Was she really trusting this guy with her life right now?

A moment later, however, one of the wings on the jets behind blew up in flames and veered sharply into its partner. Clint smiled as both of the jets spun out of control and spiraled down to the ground. Tyler couldn't help but gape as she looked at the scene behind them on the screen. Clint glanced over at her and his smile widened.

"And that is why doubting me never gets anyone anywhere," he bragged. Tyler closed her mouth and looked back to the front of them where the ground was now more rapidly approaching.

"Yeah, good job, now how are you going to shoot down the earth so we don't explode and die when we hit the surface?"

Clint huffed. "Ye of little faith," he said with a shake of his head. Tyler looked at him and again her mouth hung open. They were heading toward the ground at over one-hundred miles per hour and he was making cracks about it? Somehow life-threatening situations such as this one didn't seem in the least bit humorous to her.

Despite his little jive, though, Clint seemed to be concentrating with deadly accuracy. He pulled back on the controls to even out the jet and slowed it down by activating the thrusters. Tyler gripped the sides of her chair until her knuckles turned white, but otherwise showed no sign that she was currently freaking out.

Just when they were about to hit the ground Tyler squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath. The jet collided with the sand and the cockpit shook violently. Tyler was almost certain that her insides were going to be blended together into a disgusting pulp. Even as the jet slowed her head pounded and her limbs felt like Jell-O. When the jet skidded to a halt it still felt as though the metal walls were shaking down to their very foundations. It took several moments for Tyler to get herself to breathe again and open her eyes.

She looked to her side to make sure Clint was okay, but he wasn't there. She quickly undid the harness wrapped around her and jumped to her feet, only to stumble and fall back onto the seat. She waited a moment with her fingers pressed to her temple and tried again a little more slowly.

When she was sure that she wouldn't fall over she turned around to see Clint retrieving their things from the storage compartments above the passenger seats of the jets. He threw her bag at her and she caught it with a wince; she didn't pack very lightly.

"We have to get out of here," he informed her. Tyler was surprised that his light tone had completely flipped around and she found it very difficult to believe he was the jokester from just moments ago.

She nodded, her respect for him freshly renewed, and strapped her bag over her shoulder. Clint did the same and then grabbed a gun from his holster. He held it out and Tyler stared at it rather dumbly. She knew that she was training to be an agent and all, but she hadn't actually dealt with a gun before. She was only two months into her training, after all.

"Learning in the field's always better than target practice," Clint said and wiggled the gun once. Tyler's eyes shot up to his and held his gaze as she reached out and took the gun. She knew she would need it to defend herself, anyway. Didn't matter whether or not she was trained; she needed to have something to blow her enemies up or she would be the one on the ground.

Clint nodded and turned around to exit the jet. He must have opened the cockpit while Tyler's eyes were closed because it already exposed the trail of upturned sand the jet had left behind it. There was a large rock to the left Tyler hadn't noticed before and she had to admire Clint's steering skills. Only two or three feet to the side and they would have collided and exploded in flames. Clint didn't waste any time walking away from the wreckage and Tyler almost had to jog to keep up with him.

"Clint where are we going?" she asked. Clint glanced at her and then looked over her shoulder to the desert landscape behind them.

"I looked on the GPS before we crashed," Clint said and turned to face forward again. "There should be a S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters about three days' journey this way. We need to get there before the German Algerians send someone to look for us."

Tyler looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "German Algerians?"

Clint nodded. "They weren't speaking German, but they were flying German fighters, so until I know who they actually are they will be known as the German Algerians."

Tyler couldn't help but smile. For some reason, Clint always knew how to lighten up the mood. A little of the worry and even terror she had of being stranded in a desert went away. Only a little, though; it was still there, by all means. It felt so surreal.

As she and Clint walked in silence she almost felt as though she were reading a book or watching a movie. Just two months ago the only thing exciting in her life was when her fa—when _Tony _came home and actually talked to her. Since the night before, however, she hijacked a jet, got shot down by "German Algerians", and began traversing the desert with a master assassin that could probably think of thirty different ways to kill her with a pencil.

When she thought about it, it didn't really bother her as much as it should that she was living such a life that she had only ever heard about in fictional stories. It scared her to think that she didn't feel affected by the change she had recently gone through nearly as much as she should.

Maybe it was the shock from the crash, or maybe her mind just refused to think about it to prevent her from having a mental breakdown. She favored the shock from landing idea; she had gone through a breakdown much too recently for it to happen again.

There was absolutely no shade in the desert and even though it was roughly six in the morning the heat had already started to become brutal. There wasn't as much sand as Tyler thought there would be, the land was more or less flat and mostly rocks and dead grass seemed to span across its entirety. There was no obvious wild life and nowhere that looked as though it might have water.

No water. No animals. Tyler looked at Clint as she realized that they did not have any food or water with them; neither of them thought they were going to need it.

"Clint," her voice broke the silence tentatively, "what exactly are we going to eat and drink for the next three days?"

Clint glanced over at her before he answered. "There are ways to find food and water in the desert," he replied simply. Tyler just stared at him.

"What ways exactly are you referring to?" she tried again.

"Are you asking because you're doubting that I actually know how to do this?"

"Yes," Tyler stated bluntly. Clint looked at her with a startled look for a moment; he honestly hadn't expected that to be her answer.

"Rude," he accused childishly and looked back to where they were headed. "I've been stranded in the desert before, there are different types of plants that you can find that store water inside of them. There are also plenty of animals to catch and eat if you know where to look."

Tyler nodded, satisfied with Clint's answer. It was a good thing that he knew what he was doing because the best she could do was maybe find a snake to kill, but there were no guarantees that she would kill the snake before it tried to bite her.

Suddenly, Clint stopped in front of her and she had to halt fast to avoid running into him. He turned to the left and walked down a small hill to a type of cactus that was sticking out of the ground. Tyler raised an eyebrow but proceeded to follow him.

Clint kneeled down next to the plant and took out a large dagger from his belt. He used the dagger to rid the cactus of the thorns protruding from the very end of one of its arms. With one quick motion he severed the now dethorned part of the cactus and held it next to its trunk. He stabbed the plant above where he held its detached arm and a stream of water fell into it. Once the water stopped falling he took a small sip and then held it up to Tyler.

"Cactus water: the best way to get hydrated in the desert," he informed. Tyler nodded and took the water filled plant that Clint had made. She frowned at how high the level of the water was; Clint had hardly taken any for himself. She would save some for him, then.

She took a sip of the water and was surprised to find that it tasted a little like coconut water. It wasn't as sweet, but just as refreshing. She drank the liquid until there was about half left and held it out to Clint who had since stood up and returned his dagger to its place at his side.

The S.H.I.E.L.D. agent glanced down at the water, a little surprised that Tyler hadn't taken all of it (he knew she wasn't a selfish brat but he figured that she wasn't used to this kind of thing so she would want to have as much water as she could while it was there) and shook his head.

"You finish it, I already had some," he said.

Tyler raised an eyebrow and replied as though she were talking to a five year old. It should have bothered Clint more than it did, but for some reason he kind of found it cute. In an irritating, little sister kind of way.

"Clint, you had one sip. I don't care if you've spent years in a desert before; you are drinking more."

Clint held Tyler's gaze while he tried to make up his mind. It didn't seem like Tyler was going to let him sacrifice for her, so he might as well humor her for a while. He took the plant-cup from the trainee and took a few gulps, but left the last one for her and held it out. Tyler glared at him but eventually took the plant and drank the last little bit.

Clint nodded and turned to continue walking when Tyler was finished. Tyler wasn't too sure where to put the cup but figured she might as well bring it along so Clint wouldn't have to bother making another if they came across another cactus.

The hours passed so slowly that Tyler was sure they had been walking for at least a week. That was what it felt like, both mentally and physically. Tyler wasn't unhealthy, but she was never one to hike too much. She would run or do yoga or skateboard, but none of that put nearly as much stress on her feet as trekking across the desert did.

They didn't take very many breaks so as to get as large of a head start as possible from anyone who would try to find them after Clint had felled the two fighters. They only stopped when Clint pointed out a plant that was edible or had water. Tyler was glad for the lessons and did her best to remember everything he said; she had a feeling that she might run into another stay in the desert if she remained a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.

By the time it was lunch Tyler thought she would keel over, and her stomach very much agreed. She hadn't had dinner from the night before and they hadn't found anything to eat for breakfast aside from a couple of edible roots, but those could only do so much. What she really wanted was a nice juicy steak, but she figured that wouldn't happen. She actually figured that she wouldn't have any meat at all, but Clint was quick to prove her wrong.

At about half past noon Clint stopped walking and stood ramrod straight. Tyler had tried to ask what he was doing, but he waved his hand for her to get back and be quiet. She watched him as he slowly reached for his belt and unsheathed his dagger and then she tried to follow his line of vision. He was focusing intently on the ground in front of him and at first Tyler thought he was just trying to pull a prank, but then she remembered the situation they were in. He wouldn't do anything that stupid.

She focused a little harder and almost jumped back as she made out the shape of a large, coiled snake that blended in perfectly to the sandy-colored rock. Above each black and beady eye was a single horn about an inch long and its forked tongue flicked out menacingly as it seemed to be watching Clint just as intently as he was watching it. In a flash, Clint's hand shot out and the dagger glinted as it flew with almost inhuman speed toward the snake.

The snake didn't even know what hit it as its head was severed from its body within a single second. Tyler stared at the snake with awe and once again her respect for the agent before her was greatly renewed. She would have just backed away slowly if she confronted a snake like that. Her awe quickly turned into a little queasiness as Clint picked up both his knife and the snake's body and faced her.

"Horned Viper," he informed with a smile, "not too venomous, but it could kill a man in just ten minutes if enough of it's venom enters his system. Another fact that not many people know is that when cooked it tastes exactly like chicken."

Tyler scowled. "That's gross," she murmured and scooted back a little bit. This only amused Clint and his smile widened.

"You never know until you try," he offered light-heartedly. Tyler's scowl became more prominent, if anything, and she remained thoroughly disgusted.

"We don't even have a fire," she pointed out. Clint shrugged and continued to walk.

"We'll find something along the way," he said. Tyler followed a few steps farther behind than she normally did and glanced down with a shiver at the severed head that remained on the floor of the desert.

"So you're just going to swing that thing around in your hand until you find some firewood in a _desert_?" she asked after a few minutes.

Clint huffed. "You'd be surprised at what you can find in this place. It probably wasn't always a desert, there might have been trees a while ago and they could still be here. Besides, you see the small amounts of grass popping up, no? This is only a half-desert."

Tyler frowned. "Yeah, sure," she said, clearly not convinced. Clint looked back at her with a smirk.

"What's the matter? Don't tell me that this bothers you," he teased as he held the snake body toward her. Tyler glared at him and did her best not to flinch away.

"It's a dead snake whose head has been severed from its body right in front of my eyes; _yes _it bothers me. The last time I saw something decapitated was in Skyrim on my Xbox."

Clint raised an eyebrow. "You play Skyrim and you didn't bother telling me?"

Tyler shrugged. "It wasn't really relevant."

Clint paused and contemplated something for a moment before he glanced back at her. "So if you play Skyrim then does that mean you know how to use swords to decapitate people?"

Tyler's scowl returned and she glared at Clint. "How am I supposed to know? It's not like I knew what I was capable of before twelve hours ago."

Clint's smile faded and he stopped walking. He turned around and Tyler was a little taken aback by the hard expression he carried. She slowed to a halt hesitantly.

"Tyler, we need to talk," he said slowly.

Tyler sighed and pushed past Clint. If that was all it was then she really didn't care; she didn't want to talk, especially not to him.

"Tyler," Clint said more firmly. Tyler stopped and turned around with a glare.

"What do you want me to say?" she asked as she held her hands out with exasperation. "I don't even know what I am anymore, how am I supposed to talk about that? How am I supposed to just break down and spill out everything that I'm feeling when I don't even know what to feel? I can't just talk, Clint. What happened, what I am, it doesn't make any sense. Before we talk, I have to figure out what the hell is going on. So, no, we don't need to talk. Alright? Just… just let me figure it out. On my own."

Clint stared at her and for a moment she thought he was going to argue, but he just nodded.

"Okay," he said quietly. "But if you don't 'figure it out' by the time we reach the base then we're going to talk; whether you like it or not."

Tyler almost protested— she was only a millisecond away from doing it— but for some reason she just nodded as he had done not moments before. And that was that. Clint once again took the lead and they continued their journey without a word. It wasn't until Clint found the material they needed to make a fire that they spoke and even then it was only Clint encouraging her to taste the snake.

She refused; she was completely repulsed by it. She wouldn't eat snake unless— and suddenly she had let Clint hand her a piece of the meat. It took another couple minutes for her to work up the courage to put it in her mouth, but she did it eventually. To her surprise, the snake actually did taste a little like chicken. It had a different, strange tang to it, but it wasn't half bad. She and Clint shared the snake and then continued their journey.

If they weren't currently trying to stay hidden from some Algerians who wanted them dead or walking across a one-hundred and forty degree desert, Tyler would actually feel pretty content. Aside from the fact that she needed to somehow be figuring out what had happened with her and Tony.

She just didn't know where to start, and due to that she decided that she would hold it off for a while. If she ignored it then it wouldn't continue to make her feel like some extra-terrestrial phenomenon. And she did just that.

* * *

Loki stood at the wreckage of the black jet with a slight scowl. The way that the machine was smoking made it seem as though it didn't just quit working or fall from the sky; it must have been shot. He could sense no blood nor fading presence coming from it, so whoever was in it survived and fled. There were also two sets of footprints that seemed to be leading away from the wreckage.

Unfortunately, the one who he had paid to take him here said that he could go no further; his ride was gone. He would have to follow the footprints until he found the person he was looking for. It was a little bothersome that he had no supplies in order to keep himself alive, but he figured he could find something to eat at one point or another. He did still have his magic and knives, though he had lost his staff during the battle with the Avengers. He would probably be found if he used it anyway, it was better that his brother had taken it with him to Asguard.

Just as he was about to turn to follow the footprints, a loud hum came to his ears. He had just enough time to turn around before two large Midguardian cars came into view after circling around the large rock that obstructed view of the fallen jet.

Much to Loki's irritation, the men in the cars began shouting and pointing their weapons at him. Once the cars stopped they all hopped out and circled him. He sighed and looked around at the shouting men.

"I do not believe that we speak the same language," he said calmly. A few of the men looked at each other and then stepped aside for another man, most likely their leader, to enter the circle they had formed. Loki sized the man up and decided that had he been from Asguard it might be difficult to fell him in a fight.

He was large and burly and his bare arms showed off scars of many past battles. His skin, along with the men around him, was very dark as opposed to the white or tan he was used to seeing on Midguard. His face seemed to be permanently screwed into a scowl and his chin was held high as though he owned the world. Loki found that he was annoyed by this Midguardian.

"Is that your ship?" the man asked in accented English. At the very least, Loki wouldn't have to slaughter these men without them knowing the reason why.

"No," he replied dismissively. He would have continued talking, but the man rudely interrupted him.

"Then what is a white man in such strange clothes doing out here, eh?" he asked with something in his tone that Loki couldn't place, but he wanted to hurl a blast of deadly magic at him for it. He didn't. It would probably be better if he got the man on his side, there was no telling how strong the one he was after could be and he'd much rather prefer sending out pawns to do the dirty work. He didn't have to think too much on what he was going to say.

"Hunting for an enemy," he replied with a wicked smile. The man seemed amused, if anything.

"That is a large enemy you challenge, boy," he pointed out. Loki shrugged.

"No matter how large an enemy seems it is possible to take them down by slowly chiseling away at their strengths. The man piloting that jet is one of their best," he lied. Of course, the man could certainly have been one of the best agents S.H.I.E.L.D. had to offer, but he didn't know that. The man in front of Loki unexpectedly smiled.

"That is something you and I can agree on," he said and held his hand out. Loki's eyes flicked down to the hand and almost ignored it, but he was no fool. He held his own hand out and grabbed the man's in a firm hand shake.

"Are you the one who shot it down?" Loki motioned to the jet when his hand was released.

"Yes, we were. Oh, but where are my manners?" the man asked in a suddenly more friendly tone. He motioned for his men to stand down and smiled once again. "My name is Agni, a member of a group known as Cerberus who are sworn enemies to the petty, American S.H.I.E.L.D. Might I ask who you are, friend?"

Loki almost shuddered; he hated the thought of being called a friend by this man or any other Midguardian, but he needed his help.

"I am known as Loki," he replied. "I do not belong to any organizations, but like you I wish to see S.H.I.E.L.D… turn to dust, shall we say?"

The man laughed and clapped a hand on Loki's shoulder. Loki had to do his best not to kill him right then and there.

"I do believe we shall get along nicely," Agni said happily. "Now, we were sent out to be sure the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents are finished. Would you like to join us?"

Loki forced himself to smile. "Of course."

* * *

Tony walked through the white halls with long strides and a dangerous glint in his eyes. As soon as his text had reached Tyler's phone Jarvis had alerted him that the signal had been cut off, and that wasn't a normal occurrence. He tried to call Clint but his phone was dead, so he called Natasha. The Spider had said everything was fine and Tony asked to talk to Tyler, but she said she and Clint were too busy with training to talk at that moment and then she hung up. Bullshit.

Now Tony was tearing up the halls of S.H.I.E.L.D., unauthorized, to find someone who could tell him what the hell was going on. Tyler had only been in training for two months so there was no way that she went on a mission and had her phone taken or anything; that didn't make sense. She had just texted him to ask what was wrong with him, which would be weird on a mission, and he didn't do anything— although, he had to admit that disappearing for two weeks to get ready for his battle with the Mandarin wasn't so shrewd— but he couldn't do much about it. His suit broke in the center of some backstreet forest in the middle of nowhere. Not exactly his fault.

That was the only thing he could think of that would make Tyler text him, but there was nothing that would cause her to just break her phone: another tidbit from Jarvis. Tony thought her phone might have run out of batteries or something but Jarvis said the signal was cut too abruptly for the phone to have been turned off automatically or otherwise. So the only other explanation was that she broke her phone. Not a Tyler thing; she must have been in some trouble. He needed to see her anyway, to let her know that he was fine and that he was sorry for not being able to talk to her sooner.

As he stormed through the halls there were many agents who looked like they wanted to stop him, but none of them worked up enough courage to confront him. Until he passed Agent Hill. He had hoped not to see her on this little stroll, but sometimes things happen.

"Stark," Hill said with the usual sternness in her voice as she stepped in front of him. "What are you doing here?"

Tony ignored her and avoided her like the Plague. Of course, like the Plague, she followed him.

"Stark, you know that you're not supposed to be here. And didn't you get blown up by some terrorist two weeks ago?"

Tony looked at her with a smile as she kept his brisk pace alongside him.

"Really, I thought you'd have learned by now that it's impossible to get rid of me," he replied arrogantly. Cockiness always seemed the best way to go when talking to women in uniform. Got them all hot and angry and some sick internal side of him rather enjoyed it.

Hill didn't take the bait.

"Stark, why are you here?" she asked again.

Tony glanced at her, a little disappointed, and replied, "I'm looking for my daughter."

Something undiscernible flashed in Hill's eyes and Tony's jaw set; something was DEFINITELY wrong. He picked up his pace, much to Hill's annoyance, and glanced to the side through one of the many windows spanning the main halls. The window gave vision into the large meeting room where he had first met Dr. Banner and currently there were three people inside.

There was an eye patch, an old guy, and a spider. The way that both Steve and Fury were giving hard stares at Natasha, Tony assumed that she had done something wrong. Which would explain quite a lot of things, because the way she acted on the phone was _so_ not her.

He abruptly stopped— Hill who had still been following practically had to skid to stop— and then he barged into the meeting with a smile.

"Sorry to interrupt the powwow session," he exclaimed rather flamboyantly, "but I do believe that someone has been keeping secrets." He walked forward to stand next to Natasha, who had had her back to the door, and looked around at the group with his smile unfading.

Fury rolled his eye and Steve stiffened as though a mouse just crawled over his foot. Natasha, however, seemed completely unfazed by Tony's appearance.

"And to what do we owe the pleasure?" Fury asked sarcastically.

Tony looked over at Natasha and pointed both of his fingers at her.

"That woman failed to let me speak to my daughter," he accused. Natasha raised an eyebrow.

"I think she's old enough that you don't have to keep a leash on her like a dog," she replied. That lack of emotion in her voice drove Tony crazy.

"Actually, I haven't been able to talk to her in at least three weeks and she told me to keep in touch," he said and let his hands fall to his sides. "Besides, she's my daughter. I have to keep track of her or she'll go off and do something stupid."

Natasha let a small smirk appear on her lips. "I think that's the closest you have ever come to admitting that you have flaws."

Tony furrowed his brow. "No, I said that _she _would be the one to do something stupid. Not me."

"Whatever you say," Natasha said impassively and looked back to Fury who glowered, as he usually did.

"Our discussion isn't over," he told her before he looked at Tony. "Tyler's not able to speak at the moment."

"Hm," Tony hummed and scratched his beard with his elbow propped on one hand. "That sounds strangely familiar, doesn't it, Natasha?" he looked over at her with a cheeky grin. She didn't let any of the annoyance she felt show on her face.

"Tony," Fury retook the billionaire's attention. "You are on unauthorized grounds to talk to your daughter whom you've neglected to talk to for the past three weeks, that is a personal problem and in no way should involve you barging into the headquarters. You knew the risks when you asked if Tyler could become an agent, or at least you—"

"Wait a minute, risks?" Tony interrupted with a hand raised. That word could mean a million different things; none of which settled Tony's mind in the least. If anything, it made his imagination begin to work overtime and that was never a good sign. Fury tilted his head as though Tony were an idiot, which wasn't exactly a lie but in that moment he had a perfectly good reason to question the Director's use of the word.

"Yes, risks. Like not being able to see Tyler when you want due to training," Fury articulated clearly; a little too clearly for Tony. He narrowed his eyes; Fury was good. Fury was _good,_ but not good enough.

"Uh-uh," Tony said with a shake of his head. "That is not how you meant the word, and you know it. What happened?"

"Nothing—"

"_What happened?!"_

Fury blinked and shot a two-second glare at Natasha before he straightened and returned his attention to Tony.

"This is a subject that hardly involves-"

"Ah, if you say that it doesn't involve me them I'm going to yell," Tony once again interrupted. "Tell me where my daughter is."

Fury stared at him for a few moments, debating whether or not he should tell the billionaire the truth. If he told the truth then Tony would grab his suit and do something stupid but if he told a lie…

"Stranded in the middle of the Algerian desert with Clint," Fury replied bluntly.

Tony nodded with a billionaire smile. "Oh, ok, that's fine—WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN?!" his smile abruptly disappeared and anger flared in his eyes. "Stranded in the middle of the—how the HELL did she get there?"

"She stole one of the fighter jets with Clint and Natasha's help," Fury informed. Tony turned and gave a death glare to the Russian.

"Woman, so help me once I get my suit you are DEAD," he growled.

"Shaking in my boots," Natasha replied sarcastically. Tony would have hit her if he didn't know that she could break his arm without even flinching.

"Oh and Tony," Fury said, "Tyler saw the video."

Tony froze for a few moments before he slowly turned to glare at the Director. "Please tell me that this is some sick joke and you guys are bullshitting me," Tony pleaded though he knew what the answer would be.

"Tony," Fury said with a hard stare at the billionaire. "She saw the video."

* * *

_Well, everyone's situations just seem to be getting worse, don't they? Except for Loki... Sly fox... Anywho! Tell me what you think! ^^  
_

_-KC_


End file.
